Empty Allegiance
by carlycarter
Summary: A story for Emily and JJ. A story about loyalties, priorities and choices. What could be so important that Emily chooses to sacrifice her career in the BAU? Her decisions threaten to shatter the team forever. Will JJ discover where her true loyalties lie?
1. Prologue Part i Emily

Dedication: For you JuJu (aka Kassandra Luem) Because you introduced me to Emily/JJ, and because I thought my words had left me forever until one day you said _"_maybe together we can try to recover our lost words and start writing again." Because to quote Emily "You make the people around you feel good." and because I'll miss you like crazy when you go home to Germany and I hope that these words might help you to remember me. All my love forever xoxoxoxox Carly

_Prologue: _

_"Standing tall while the world crumbles around you"_

_I) Emily_

You realise something is wrong as soon as he speaks your name.

"Agent Prentiss, May I have a word?"

"Of course." You answer.

What else can you say? He is your senior agent, you take orders from him. You follow obediently as any good employee would do. Calmly. As if nothing is out of the ordinary.

"Sit." He commands when you reach his office.

You analyse his voice, his mannerisms. He is uncomfortable, but kind. Almost as if he is trying hard to sound angry, authoritative, but he can't quite make it convincing. Like a father figure wanting to scold a young child for touching a hot stove, when all he really wants is to wrap his child in his arms to protect her, keep her safe, never let anything burn her again.

He speaks to you in a different manner than the way you are used to. You didn't realise how much respect Agent Hotchner had for you until this very moment. The moment you hear something missing in his voice. That respect. It's gone. You feel like you've lost something precious. How can you miss it so much when you weren't even aware it was there to begin with?

"I'll stand." You answer. Because it feels right. You feel like rebelling against this instruction, shattering his expectations. You don't feel like playing the part of the perfect agent anymore.

You force yourself to look him in the eyes. You can't stand to see that in his eyes. What is that? Almost like kindness, almost like regret. Is it pity? You despise pity. You'd rather see anger and disrespect.

"I said sit, Agent Prentiss." He repeats, in his hardest, most unfriendly tone.

"I said I'll stand." You challenge him.

What difference does it make now? He has made up his mind, You've made your bed. Get it over with.

You've challenged him before, you've disagreed with him and fought with him. But you've always been able to find some common ground, some place where he is the leader and you submit to his requests. He respects your opinions, and you respect that at the end of the day the final say is his. You've never challenged him over something so trivial. You feel powerful somehow. Childish, and victorious. You look straight at him. Challenging him. _Go on, Do it. I'm waiting._ Your gaze never wavers, your hands don't tremble, Not like his. He clasps them quickly behind his back, out of your sight, so you can't see that he is shaking.

You wonder for a minute if you've gone too far? If this will cause him to raise his voice? To pull rank? Threaten you with...with what? What's left to threaten you with? He seems to know he is defeated. That no threat or promise or plea could contradict your stubborn will at that moment. He sighs.

He sits behind his desk. And you feel strange, towering over him, as if he were your subordinate. As if it was you who held _his life_ in _your hands_ and not the other way around. You can see your calm manner un nerves him. It always has. And that makes you feel better somehow.

"Please, Emily." He begs after minutes of silence.

_Please __what__?_ You want to ask him. It chills you to hear him call you 'Emily'. Despite the closeness of the team you are known as 'Agent Prentiss', or just 'Prentiss'. Never have you heard him use your first name in such a familiar. It's almost enough to break you.

You want to ask him why he looks so distraught. It's your career in jeopardy, your reputation and professionalism in ruins. And yet you stand, strong and firm, prepared for what will come. And he sits, uncomfortably. Squirming in his chair, nervously playing with his pen. Why?

"Emily." He says your name again. "I'm speaking to you, right now, as a friend and not a colleague."

Somehow this disturbs you. Given a choice, you'd prefer his chilling professional manner, not this friendly voice that calls you Emily.

You respond with silence. Silence is best defence, you've learned, and the best attack. The best all round policy, to stand calmly and say absolutely nothing.

"Understand there is nothing I can do for you if you don't give me some sort of reason. Some explanation." He proceeds.

"I don't believe I asked you to do anything for me, Sir.' You reply, respectfully.

"Emily, You're a valued colleague, a vital part of this team, a friend. I want you to know that you can confide in me. And whatever you say to me, I will do my best to help you. But you have to trust me, and I need to know I can trust you."

"You've never trusted me." You answer softly. Because you can't hold your tongue any longer. because your '_silence is the best defence_' theory just isn't going to cut it when he is standing there calling you 'Emily', calling you 'friend'. "I've never been part of this team. And that's the way you always wanted it. From day one you suspected my motives, Agent Hotchner. Please don't waste my time with these insincerities."

You see a flicker in his eyes, anger at your accusation. You know you've hit a nerve. He waits a moment before answering you. Its a hard thing for him to admit he was wrong. "Yes at first I doubted you, your ability, your loyalty. I was wrong, I admit it."

"No, You weren't wrong." You whisper softly. "You should trust your instincts."

"I do." He answers immediately. "In this job, sometimes my instincts are all I have. You want to know what my instincts tell me? My instincts tell me you're one of the best agents the department has ever had, they tell me that there is some reason, some explanation behind these allegations." He motions to the report lying on his desk. You haven't read it, but you know what it says. "But they are serious allegations made against you, Emily. And I need more than my instincts to go on once my superior colleagues hear of this. We all answer to someone- and right now, you answer to me."

"If you meant that, if you trusted me, if you knew me at all then you wouldn't need to ask these questions." You realise you're being unfair. The mountain of evidence against you surely entitles him and the entire FBI to ask a whole lot of questions of you. It's his job. He has to think of the team as a whole. He has to answer to his senior colleagues. You can't expect him to trust you implicitly in the face of everything that has happened.

Your words wound him, you can see it, and it satisfies you somehow- This final parting blow. Satisfies you and yet still leaves you feeling hollow and empty inside.

"Emily, you don't leave me any options, do you understand that? It's not about me. I trust you. I know you. But the department will need more than that." He talks slowly, as if you were a small child not capable of understanding.

It's not exactly how you'd pictured this encounter. You'd pictured anger and accusations and doubt, you'd pictured being dismissed on the spot. And somehow that would have made it easier. You didn't even expect Agent Hotchner to give you the courtesy of his personal attention. You expected to be hauled away by someone more senior, publicly facing a panel of the FBI's highest ranking officials who would accuse you and find you guilty and make the rest of your existence a living hell. You had heard the stories of things that happened to crooked agents. But he stands here offering you kindness.

"Do what you have to do." You tell him, hearing someone else's voice in your mind telling you that same piece of advice. '_Do what you have to do, Emily."'_

"Don't make me do this ." He pleads with you. "We can work something out. Juts tell me the truth. Don't walk away, that's the wrong choice Emily, you'll regret it." He tells you chillingly.

His words are unfair too, you're not making him do anything. And suddenly you want out of this place where your actions impact so deeply on other people.

"There is no choice." You reply. And for a minute you consider telling him everything. It's tempting, his offer, his extended hand of trust, not to mention employment, financial security, professional pride . But you know better. Besides, you have nothing to offer him in the way of excuses or explanation. Nothing that would satisfy. You are guilty.

"Emily. If it's going to come down to this, then please consider something."

You make no response to him, but stand still, listening to his considerations. "Resign now," He tells you. "No questions asked. I have it from Agent Strauss that this matter won't go any further if you hand in your resignation today. There will be no formal charges laid, no criminal case to answer to. I will make certain."

You continue staring at him. You want to badly to turn your eyes from him, to turn and run from this mess you've ended up in. But you can't. Why is he doing this? Doesn't he know you _need_ him to fire you? To send you packing. How can he ask _you_ to turn your back on the BAU? Doesn't he understand you could never do that?

You realise he is trying to be kind, to keep you out of prison, to save your reputation, your dignity. You wonder what kind of strings he has pulled to make that happen. You feel like you should be grateful. But you're not. You want to tell him where to stick his deal. That you, Emily Prentiss, will go down fighting.

"Think about the others." He adds quietly. And you do think. About the people you've dragged down with you. You think about Garcia. You know she has covered for you. More than once. You never asked her to, but she did. You realise you owe it to her if no one else. You have to take the fall for this.

Without a word you reach forward and take the pen from his desk, signing the papers he has put in front of you, papers he obviously prepared before hand. You look back at him, as you hand the papers to him. You can't stand to see the look of torment in his eyes, and once again it makes you bitter. It's you that been affected by this, not him. Not his precious team. Things will go on just as they always did before you joined the BAU, it will be like you were never here.

You turn and calmly walk out of his office heading towards your own desk.

"You want coffee Em?" You hear JJ offer.

"No thanks." You answer calmly, and smile at her sweetly as if nothing was out of the ordinary. You force yourself not to think that this is the last time you'll ever see her. You can't stand it. The FBI, the BAU, your career- you could survive without it all. But JJ? How can you walk out the door knowing you'll never see her again? You can't. But you have to.

You pick up your coat from where it hangs on the back of your chair, along with your car keys. Everything else you leave behind untouched on the desk. And you casually walk out the door without looking back.


	2. Prologue Part ii Hotch

**Prologue ii) Hotch**

* * *

_Prologue ii)_

_'Standing tall while the world crumbles around you.'_

_Hotch_

The others follow you into the room for what they assume is briefing on a new case. It's still early and you can feel the lack of energy in your colleagues. Rossi enters last, closing the door. You exchange a glance with him, wishing that he would take the unpleasant task of making this announcement. But somehow you feel it has to come from you. It's your team. Your responsibility.

"Should we wait for Emily/?" JJ asks.

You ignore her question and begin "Guess not." You hear her mumble as she and Garcia exchange a puzzled glance.

"Agent Prentiss has resigned from the FBI and the BAU, effective immediately." You say in an emotionless voice. You tell yourself that if you remain calm, the other will react calmly too. You can just sweep this whole occurrence under the carpet, the team will go on as if Emily Prentiss was never even here.

There is a confused chorus of questions from your team. "What, Why, How, Huh?"

"Personal reasons." You continue. "And I'm sure we wish her all the best in her future. I have to inform you that due to circumstances beyond my knowledge or control, and for strict security reasons, I have been advised that no one from this department is permitted to communicate with Former Agent Prentiss in any way. Former Agent Prentiss has been advised of this. Any Agent found breaching this order will be brought forward on disciplinary charges and face instant dismissal from the FBI. Is that clear?"

Most of your team are stunned into silence. Just as you'd hoped. It's Garcia who speaks first. "Uhm, No." She answers.

"Excuse me?" You say calmly.

"I'm afraid it's not that clear, I don't understand. Are you talking about Emily? Our Emily? You make it sound like you're talking about some criminal. Emily is gone? Just like that? What happened? You can't just tell us she's gone, with no explanation, that we can't contact her. You can't do that."

You're grateful when Rossi steps in, You're not sure how you would have answered. Perhaps it's somehow easier for him, he is relatively new. He didn't know Emily as well as you did. Thought you did. "Garcia, the FBI says we can. We are all professionals, we need to leave our personal feelings aside, we have a serious job to do. It's imperative that we follow protocol. People's lives are in our hands. I realise it may be distressing, but we deal with horrendous things day in day out, that's just the way it is. We all have a job to get on with. Agent Hotchner and myself are acting on the instruction we have received from above, and we expect it to be obeyed by every member of this department. Anyone found breaching regulations will be punished accordingly, and I strongly advise you all to follow every procedure to the letter. Furthermore this issue will not be permitted as a topic of conversation either inside or outside the walls of this building. Is that understood?"

This shocking nature of the announcement, and the unvoiced allegation- that Agent Prentiss must have been involved in serious misconduct- seems to have silenced most of your team, and Rossi's harsh words seem to have silenced anyone who would have dared to question you. You hastily make your exit, heading for the sanctuary of your office.

You sit at your desk, taking a deep breath, grateful that it's over. But you're waiting for the knock at your door.

"I don't understand" She tells you, as she stands at your door, pale and shaking. You invite her in. You don't want to have this conversation with her, but you can't have her stirring the others up. You really need this whole Emily mess to go away. You don't want Strauss looking over your shoulder, or any other prying eyes from other FBI departments. This is a nightmare, and you're well aware that if you don't move carefully it will tear the rest of your team to pieces.

"Sit." You tell her. And unlike her colleague, Agent Jareau does it unquestioningly. "JJ I have no answers."

You wonder about these two women, Agent Prentiss and Agent Jareau. So different. One stood here an hour ago, refusing to give an inch, challenging and defying you at every turn when you put your own job on the line to try and help her. She refused to answer even one simple question. As if her very existence depended on keeping you in the dark. Refusing to flinch as you looked deep into her eyes, refusing to show even the slightest flicker of emotion.

The other sits before you now, shamelessly crying right here in your office. Begging, pleading, for answers. Telling you things you already know about her personal feelings for the Former Agent Prentiss, but are decidedly uncomfortable discussing with her. JJ begs you for help. To help her, to help Emily. You _had_ offered help to Emily and she threw it back in your face. Here JJ begs you, and you have nothing to give her. You don't know what to say.

"There has been some kind of mistake. Emily wouldn't..." her voice trails off, she is uncertain how to finish. "Emily just wouldn't! Hotch, Please!"

"JJ Stop." You order. You can't stand to hear it. That desperation. Besides, she is wasting her breath defending Emily to you. You know Emily. Know she wouldn't have done it without a damn good reason. You wanted desperately to help her, there was nothing you could do if Emily wouldn't let you. You have to think of the team, the others. The best way to help JJ now seemed to help her, like the rest of the team, put it all behind them. A serious security breech like this, right from the inner core, had potential to shatter the most cohesive of teams. It was the best way to divide, right from the inside. To divide and to conquer. You won't let that happen to your team. team. There is nothing you can do for Emily now. It grieved you. But Emily wasn't your responsibility anymore. Your responsibility was, always had been, the BAU. You owe it to those left to make something positive out of this. To somehow pull together and go on, stronger than before.

"JJ. " You begin gently. "The best thing I can tell you. Forget her. Put your personal feelings and beliefs aside."

"You cant tell me that, you cant expect..." She stops, unable to speak she is crying so hard. It shocks you to see your usually calm collected colleague this distressed. You feel uncomfortable. You've seen the chemistry between these two women, the touches and glances. You know that feelings run deep. But this job, this department, in your mind it has to come first. Above all sideline issues.

"JJ, I cant tell you what to do. I can tell you this. If you care about your job, You will forget Agent Prentiss and get on with your work. Believe me when I tell you that I know what it is to sacrifice something precious..." You stop, not wanting to make this about you. Not wanting to remind yourself again of the way your job somehow cost you your family. You take a breath "I know It's not easy. But, this team can't afford to lose two agents. "

With that you place a hand on her shoulder, an attempt to comfort her, to let her know you're sorry, that you wish it hadn't come to this, but it has. You're not sure what to do or say, and you understand how much she felt for Emily, how upset she is. You understand it better than anyone. So instead of ordering her out of your office and back to work, you quietly leave, closing the door behind you so you won't have to hear her softy crying, as she sits at your desk with her head in her hands.


	3. Chapter 1 Emily, JJ, Garcia

_Chapter 3_

"_Conversations in the Dark."_

_Emily, JJ, Garcia_

Emily

You can't sleep. You won't. Because sleeping means closing your eyes. And when you close your eyes, you see things.

Tonight, you see her.

"Thank you." She tells you

"I didn't do it for you." You respond angrily. It seems that you can do nothing about the things that happened, but your motives are pure, they are your own for no one else to claim or see or use. She can't take that from you.

She laughs. "If that's what you need to tell yourself, Emily."

JJ 

As darkness falls outside you look around your office. Eyes searching for something to bring some sense. You force yourself to think, to remember. So many small things that seemed a little odd at the time. You never asked. Maybe Emily has been trying to tell you something?

You sit on the floor, surrounded by hundreds of case files, splayed across the floor. It's just how your office looked, that night. You're trying to recreate that moment, as if it will somehow jog your memory. Your eyes scan over the files scattered across the floor, waiting for one of them to jump out at you. The one that Emily was looking for.

It was some months ago. You don't remember how many. More than three, less than six. You had been hanging around in the bathroom at work. Waiting for the others to go home. Making sure each and every one of your team mates had left the building. You didn't want them to know you were still at work. Frightened to go home.

It's not that you were scared of something happening to you. Not scared of being raped or beaten or kidnapped or killed, or any of the things you saw every day in your job that you would expect to be haunting you. Sometimes you were just afraid to close your eyes.

There were times you just needed to be there, at work. With some purpose, something constructive to do. And the mountain of paperwork on your desk served as a perfect distraction. It's just that you didn't want the others to know about the occasional nights you spent in your office. It was pretty pathetic.

_You had stopped for a moment, hearing movement from your office. Instinctively you pulled your gun as you kicked the door open._

_"JJ it's me." She assured you quickly, a little alarmed._

_It took a moment before you lowered your weapon. She was laughing. "Jesus Christ, JJ. What are you doing here?"_

_She had this way of putting you on the spot. Wasn't this your office? What was she doing here? And yet she made you feel guilty, as if you had to answer to her._

_"I forgot something." You mumbled. "And you? May I help you? Looking for something?"_

_She sat on the floor, case files all around her in disorderly array._

_"No." She answered. "Just looking."_

_She was lying. You both knew it. But you didn't push it. Grateful that she had shown you the same courtesy._

_She looked across the files "Look at that JJ". Emily said to you. _

_And you looked. Suppressing the urge to pick every last folder up and stack it neatly on your desk, as you're sure you had left it._

_"So many cases, so many people needing help. So many ways we can fail." She mused. _

_"You can't look at it like that." You answered her brightly "Look at it this way, so many people we can help, we do help. People we do save."_

_She continued "So many people we lock up, and injure, and kill. Families we tear apart, lives we destroy."_

_"Wow." You responded incredulously ."We're not responsible for the choices people make. If people break the law, endanger other people's lives, it's our responsibility to stop them. To protect the public. To uphold the law."_

_"People that break the law; do you think they deserve to die?" She asked you intensely, as if you were the one deciding who lives and who dies._

_"I don't make the laws." You answered quickly, not sure what you think about who does or does not deserve life, or death._

_"Who's to say that we know what's right and wrong. Don't you ever think, sometimes, that we might have made a mistake?" She asked._

_"No." You answered. It had always been pretty clear for you; you're one of the good guys, out to stop the bad guys._

_"Don't you ever think about the reason?" She wanted to know. _

_"The reason?"_

_"The reason people do such terrible things." She clarified. _

_You took a moment to consider her question. "People hide behind a lot of 'reasons'. I don't believe in using that as an excuse. We all have difficulties in life, it doesn't give us the right to kill or hurt other people. Somewhere, fundamentally, I believe everyone knows the difference between right and wrong. I wouldn't be here in this job if I didn't believe fundamentally in the law. In rules. In consequences, it's imperative to keep society functioning. There has to be order, and we try to keep that order. "_

_"How can you expect people to know right from wrong? Some people never have the chance to learn."_

_"It's sad Emily, but it's not our problem, our job is to protect innocent people, make the world safe. We can't be responsible for everyone; we can't save everyone. Just do the best we can to make the world a safer place."_

_"But how do you know who the innocent people are JJ?" She asked simply._

_"I really don't have the answers, Emily." You were forced to answer. "It's not for me to judge. I just do my job the best I can. It's all any of us can do._

_"Don't you ever wonder, that maybe we got it wrong?"_

_"What are you really talking about?" You finally asked her, knowing that it wasn't just a general debate about the moral code of society. There was something specific on her mind. She was not sitting here on your floor randomly flipping through case notes. She was haunted by something. She was looking for something. "What are you looking for?"_

_She looked across to you sitting on the floor of your office beside her, well after midnight. She answered your question with a question _

_"What are you really doing here, JJ?"_

Emily

"Why me?" You ask.

"You know why." She smiles.

"No." You shake your head.

"Because with you I can be sure." She tells you

This time it's you who laughs. "I wouldn't be so sure if I was you."

Garcia

He approaches your desk quickly. You hide the tears. You realise he is disappointed in you for showing such emotion. You're supposed to be a hardened professional, just get on with the job. You're supposed to be able to take whatever life throws at you, not even blink.

You want to scream at him and plead with him until you get answers, but the look he gives you makes you feel like that is wrong. That it's somehow weak.

He says something to you as he reaches the desk, so softly the others wouldn't have heard, you're not sure that you even heard it.

"Anything that shouldn't be here, get rid of it." Agent Hotchner orders you.

He doesn't have to tell you that. You've covered your tracks, Emily's tracks. She had tried herself, but not well enough to keep you from noticing. And so you had covered them for her. Hidden any trace so deep that no one would be able to find it. So you hoped.

You'd seen it more than once. Small things at first. Classified information that had been accessed. Not a big deal. Lots of people did it. Not exactly highly professional, but not a hanging offence. No excuse for the look of fury in Agent Hotchner's eyes.

You hadn't been interested at the time. Or just hadn't wanted to know. Hadn't wanted to risk other people finding out anything. You never paid a lot of attention. You read a few things, once or twice. Nothing that made sense, nothing that stood out, case files, information about people, nothing significant, so you thought at first. It surprised you that Emily, so by the book, had been so sloppy about covering up. Had she wanted to be caught? Had she been somehow asking for help? You had never asked her even a single question. Now it's too late. You wish you had paid more attention. Not just turned a blind eye. It's not that it would empower you to do anything. But maybe you'd have answers. Maybe you'd be able to give them to JJ.

"I'm counting on your support." He tells you, and you look at him blankly.

"This team needs to keep functioning. Please put aside any thought that there is something you can do for former Agent Prentiss. There is not. That's up to her. Understand? She was not forced to leave. But circumstances are that nothing can bring her back. Trying will only cause a lot of difficulty. For you, the others, even for Emily."

He makes you want to scream. Does he really expect you all to go on as if nothing happened. With no explanation? No answers? Always wondering what happened, how you could have done things differently. Does he expect you to look JJ in the eye and tell her to forget it.

Your gaze wanders to JJ's office; he realises what you're thinking. "We can't afford to lose her too."

It's those final words that grab you. The thought that Emily is gone is bad enough, losing two of your best friends, you can't let it happen. Hotch is right. Emily is gone. You can't do anything to change that. But JJ is still here. You can protect her. You don't want her making trouble for herself. You have to convince her to let it go.

"I'm not sure I can do anything about that." You tell him. It's really not fair of him to put this onto you.

"If anyone can, you can." With those words he walks away.

Your fingers hover over the keyboard, aching. You know that within minutes you could have information. Answers. You're not sure exactly what you'd find. Where Emily is? How to contact her? What exactly had happened? Without a reason, you can't make peace.

No one speaks about it. And it makes you want to scream. You are all thinking about it, about her. Every last one of you.

JJ looks at you, and although for now you both respect the silence on the issue, you'd be stupid not to standing right here in the office, you know there will come a time.

"Garcia, my car's broken down, give me a ride." She asks you at the end of the day. You see this for what it is, a chance for the two of you to talk. About Emily.

You nod, how can you refuse? But you want to. Because you realise somehow that you're relieved that you're not permitted talk about this. Somehow you figure maybe you don't want to know the things you might find out. You don't want to reveal things you know, you don't want to think about them. Or what they might mean. Don't want to start piecing things together. Don't want to get carried away. In your job, all of you, every day, have to use your imagination, getting inside other people's minds making sense of deviant behaviour. You're all too aware of the things that go on. You don't think you want to know.

To your immense relief, Morgan approaches from behind. "I'll give you a ride JJ." He speaks up.

"Thanks." JJ tells him icily, "But I asked Garcia."

"I'll give you both a ride." He states, and JJ nods.

You get in the car and wait for him to start the engine, but he sits there, silent.

"Ok. Great. We can sort this out between us, I know we can." JJ starts.

"Let's just not go there. You heard what Hotch said." Morgan commands.

"Oh come on." JJ says.

"It's orders, we have to respect them, have to trust Hotch." He finishes.

"Trust Hotch?" JJ repeats, incredulously.

"It's a direct order JJ, don't go making trouble for yourself, or dragging Garcia into this." Morgan tells her harshly.

"Who's gonna know Morgan? You think the FBI planted a bug in your car? In mine? In Garcia's? In our houses? I think the FBI has better things to do. You think Hotch really expects us to walk out of here and go home and never discuss Emily again?"

"What's the harm, Morgan? It's just talk." You speak up, hesitantly, because somehow you need to talk about it.

"Yeah, of course that's all it is, just talk. Isn't it, JJ?" Morgan wants to know, ignoring you completely. She doesn't answer.

"All I'm saying is there must be a reason. For everyone's good we just need to leave it alone. Maybe that's what Emily wants."

"It isn't" JJ insists, her narrowed eyes sparkling with fury in the semi dark of the car.

"How do you know? She tell you that?" Morgan asks, mockingly.

You see JJ's face fall. "No, she told me nothing." She admits quietly. "That's why it doesn't make sense. That's why we need to work together." She turns to you "I know you know something Garcia, its written all over your face."

"No." You inform her. It's pretty much true. You don't know anything that would make any sense.

"Garcia, you're my friend, Emily's friend." She pleads with you.

"Morgan is right, we have to leave it alone JJ." You whisper finally.

"Thought I could count on you, Garcia." Then venom in her voice chills you. "Thought I knew you."

"Hey settle, it's not her fault." Morgan buts in. "All I'm saying is, how well did we really know Emily? We need to trust Hotch and let this go."

"Morgan." You interrupt. "It's Emily! We do know her." Even though you should be siding with him, trying to convince JJ to let it go. You can't stand there and listen as he slanders Emily like that.

"Look, Hotch wouldn't tell us not to contact her unless it was for a good reason. Maybe it's some undercover assignment, did you think of that? Maybe you're jeopardising the whole case, her safety, your own job, all for nothing. We just have to stick together now and move forward, yeah?"

"Stick together?" JJ asks, spitting the words out at him.

"Yeah, JJ. Stick together." He repeats, calmly.

"Until one of us disappears?" She wants to know.

"Come on, JJ. You're being unreasonable." He dismisses her.

"No, tell me Morgan, if I disappeared suddenly just like that, and one day Hotch came to work and told you to just forget you ever knew me, to never try to contact me, to ask no questions about what happened to me? You'd just let it go?"

He makes no reply.

"So much for the sticking together." JJ finishes softly.

Emily

She stands behind you now.

She isn't calling you, she never needed to, you always came running. But not this time. This is the end. But she is still standing there.

"What do you want?" You ask her.

"No Emily, what do you want?"

"From you? Nothing."

She laughs. "You're wrong."

"You have nothing I want. I don't need you anymore."

"I have the one thing you want more than anything Emily. The thing you'd sacrifice anything for."

"What?" You ask her. "What is it you have that you think I want so desperately?"

"The answers."


	4. Chapter 2 & 3 Hotch, Garcia

_Chapter 2. _

_Hotch. _

_"Out of control."_

You had warned the others to stay away, but you yourself, you couldn't resist putting in an appearance. Not to pay your respects to Ambassador Prentiss, but because you wanted to catch a glimpse of her daughter. You told yourself it was all you were planning. What else could you offer her really? You just wanted to see or yourself that she was ok. And if she was not…? You shook your head- Agent Prentiss would be fine, _former_ agent Prentiss. Had you ever known her not to be?

"You met my mother, Did you like her?" Emily had asked you almost accusingly, challenging you to speak your mind. Tactfully you had replied that the ambassador was an impressive woman. You had gathered from the passionate way Emily had told you her feelings about politics destroying families, that it had not been easy growing up as the only child of ambassador Prentiss. Still, you recognised respect in Emily's eyes as she spoke of the woman, and her desire to please her mother. And you knew she would be here today to pay respects to the woman who raised her.

There was nothing you could do for Emily, professionally speaking. You'd gone to the wall to protect her this far. The fact that the entire matter had been swept under the rug after Emily had resigned had cost you dearly. You'd called in favours that you would spend the rest of your working life paying back. Strauss would not let you forget this one, for a long time to come.

Why had you done it? Because you believed in Emily's innocence? Then why hadn't you tried harder to prove it? Because you believed she was guilty but that there must have been a reason? Because you liked her? Because she was one of you? You'd done all you could. You would have done more. If she had come to you, trusted you, told you what the hell was going on. You already did above and beyond what was expected of you. And still you can't sleep at night. That's the real reason you're here, today.

It frightens you, the entire situation. You call yourself a profiler, think you know people, think you understand behaviour, nothing is supposed to shock you. How could she have been guilty of this, and not one of you noticed a thing? It frightens you that your team could have turned a blind eye, there must have been signs. You racked your brain, you saw nothing. But had you been looking? Did you want to be the kind of man looking twice at his team? His family? You'd never needed to in the past. Maybe now was time for a different approach?

The mess that was left of the BAU team aside; there was nothing you, Aaron Hotchner, could do for her, Emily Prentiss, professionally speaking. Not now. And you asked yourself, aside from professionally, what could you do for her?

You'd been expecting to see JJ here. It was the other reason you'd made the trip. You knew you had no power to stop her. You couldn't stop them talking. You just hoped JJ had enough sense not to do anything stupid to jeopardise her own career. Maybe JJ needed this, some kind of closure. Maybe Emily could give her some answers. Something that would satisfy her, allow her to move on, allow your team to function normally again.

At the moment your team is in pieces. There is no trust, no collaboration. And you know that without teamwork, even the most brilliant among you is useless. It's the sharing of ideas, supporting one another, that made your team something to be proud of. You'd feared for what would become of your team, if Emily had stayed. You could not have let things continue, not someone you could not trust right in the centre of everything. But you never dreamed her leaving would be the catalyst of total and complete destruction of anything resembling a team, much less a family. If she had stayed, would have been only her to worry about, just _you_ keeping an eye on _he_r. Simple. Now there was no trust, from anyone. Now it was beyond your control.

You weren't surprised by the incredibly elaborate service, the hundreds of mourners, You weren't surprised to see you very own agent Jareau inconspicuously hiding in the back row of the chapel. What did surprise you, immensely, was the absence of ambassador Prentiss' daughter.

Chapter 3. Garcia. "First to break." 

You're waiting for JJ to return from the Ambassador's funeral. You can tell she is surprised to find you sitting on her doorstep.

"Well?" You ask tentatively.

"Well what?" She replies coldly, stepping around you to get to your door as if you were a piece of rubbish, an obstacle in her path.

"Did you see Emily?" You ask quietly, looking around as that name slips from your lips. After weeks of being told you can't talk about Emily, can't think about Emily, you suddenly feel like you're committing a crime just to say her name aloud.

"What do you care?" She calls out harshly, not even turning to look back at you as she fumbles with her key in the lock.

Then it hits you- She's been to the Ambassador's funeral, She's seen Emily, She doesn't need you any more. You're of no use to her in her search, and therefore no value to her.

_Good thing too_, you think. After the weeks of silent treatment and harassment, the torture that she made of your every working day trying to beg you, bully you into joining her crusade, making it clear her friendship and professional respect came with that condition, it's a good thing she has no use for you now. Because that was the last time you were going to let Jennifer Jareau speak to you like you're a piece of shit on her shoe.

She has her precious Emily now, There was no need to continue to treat you like this. You'd tolerated it for weeks, telling yourself to be compassionate, to understand the way JJ was feeling. You put yourself in her shoes. Tried the best way you knew how to help her through it. How hurt she must be, how powerless she must feel, you got it, you forgave her. Then. But now she had what she wanted, She'd disobeyed Hotch's orders and gone to the funeral, She'd seen Emily, found her answers. Why was she still taking it out on you? As if Emily's disappearance was your sole personal responsibility?

JJ had been harsh with the others too, everyone on the team had copped it lately, but you'd copped the brunt of it. Why? Because she considered you closer to Emily and therefore more obliged to help her? Because you were the one best qualified to find Emily? Because she thought you knew something about the disappearance? Because you were an easy target? She though you'd be the first to break? Well you were.

You were the one that ran to the bathrooms crying at the way she treated you, crying because you missed your friends, both her and Emily, who were gone from your life. The others grew quickly irritated with JJ and her attitude over the past weeks, learning to ignore her, but you were the only one she had wounded, or perhaps just the only one who showed it.

Jennifer Jareau had single handedly made life in the BAU a nightmare. No, you correct yourself, not quite single handedly. Emily began this. Taking off like that, not a word to anyone, no explanation, no goodbye. Emily could have found a way to let you know something. If she had cared. At all. It wasn't just JJ making things hard. At least you understood JJ's part in it. JJ wanted, needed, so much to find Emily. She just couldn't get it through her head that you couldn't help her. It wasn't even just the two of them causing this. How could Hotch really tell you all to just forget it, no information, no explanation, did he really think it would all go away, swept neatly under the rug? Your respect for the man dwindled each passing day as you watched him watching over his disintegrating fragmented team, and say nothing, do nothing.

All you wanted were answers. You didn't think it was too much to ask.

You think back to the last time you had spoken with Morgan. Last week. It was the first time since the day Emily went missing weeks ago that you'd heard her name come from his lips. He'd found you crying at your desk after another altercation with JJ. Some stupid argument about some printed data that wasn't in the correct format she had asked for. It was stupid things like that she attacked you with, and you told yourself to ignore it. Told yourself she was hurting and didn't mean it. But it still got to you, seeing the coldness in her eyes, being constantly criticised for everything you did.

_Morgan looked at you, and sighed sympathetically. "Don't cry baby girl." He said softly, "Come with me." And he led you outside, away from the office, away from that place, into the sunshine and fresh air, and for a moment things really did seem better. "Don't let her get to you, yeah? " He said. He'd said it to you before, many times. Right from the first say he'd found you crying and asked what was wrong. He looked at you like you had two heads when you told him it was the way JJ treated you that caused those tears. "Look JJ is off the planet, she's talking crap, no on pays attention to what she says about you or your work, don't let it get to you." He didn't understand at all, and it made you miss JJ all the more. Miss talking to someone who understood you._

"_It's not JJ." You uttered to him this time. Not just JJ, you silently added. _

"_Then what's up?"_

_For lack of anyone else to confide in, and because you somehow trusted him in that moment, trusted the way he was talking to you so gently, the way his arms hung protectively around your shoulders. You told him._

"_I miss my best friends." You said. _

"_You still got me." He replied, and you knew that should make you feel better, but it didn't. Work was unbearable; you didn't know how much longer you could stick it out like this. And nights you lay awake wondering about Emily, was she ok, where was she, would you see her again, what would happen to JJ? To the team? Could you have done something to prevent it?_

"_Yeah.' You conceded. "But I miss Emily."_

_He flinched as you said her name. And something in him snapped, you saw it in your eyes. "Forget it Garcia, Forget all of it. Get your mind back on the job. We have work to do. "_

"_But it's Emily! You scream at him "One of us!"_

_He showed no sign of understanding at all. _

"_Grow up Garcia, and pull yourself together." He told you harshly, and gone was the caring Morgan who had his arm around you moments ago. He as good as called you unprofessional. His words wounded you. And you knew the one person who understood your feelings was JJ. The one person you needed right now, needed each other, and she was freezing you out. You couldn't take it anymore. None of it. Why were you in the wrong __with everyone all the time? With JJ because you didn't care enough, with Morgan because you cared too much? _

"_Take a look at that." Morgan commanded you, pointing up to JJ's office, "You wanna end up a fruit loop like that like that? Let it go." _

_How you despised him in that moment. You were infuriated, but disbelieving. "I thought we were family. JJ is right, this is shit. If I disappeared one day you'd just tell everyone to forget me, Oh well Garcia is gone who needs her anyway? Garcia who? Nevermind let it go."_

"_That's not what I'm saying" He softened his tone. "This is the last time we're gonna talk about this, about anything like this, hear me? Trust Hotch, trust me, for everyone's good, Prentiss included, let it go ok? Prentiss is gone, she ain't coming back, and all this crazy talk just gets everyone worked up, the team cant function like this. You'll drive yourself crazy. Let. It. Go."_

_You're not sure why you hit him. The way he looked you in the eye telling you just forget your best friend, with no answers, the way he insulted JJ when you understood exactly the way she was acting, or just the way you felt like everything was burning inside you, and there was no way out. You were angry at Emily for doing this, angry at JJ for treating you like shit, angry at Morgan for speaking to you like you were 5 years old. You hadn't deserved that. _

_He stood a moment looking you in the eye as he rubbed his jaw. Your hands were shaking. As if things weren't fucked up enough. You wondered if he'd report you for unprofessional conduct. You wondered if there was any way back from this point, for you and Morgan? For you and JJ? For the entire team? It takes you a moment to have courage to return his gaze. And when you do, you realise something. Something you should have realised all along. He knows something. Very probably he knows everything. And he isn't telling you. And in that moment your fury at him surpasses your fury at Emily and JJ combined. You walked away wordlessly and hadn't spoken to him since. _

It wasn't fair, You'd done exactly what Hotch asked of you, kept everything to yourself. Told JJ over and over the exact thing Morgan was telling you- let it go. And yet Hotch blamed you somehow for JJ's irrational behaviour, blamed you for the loss of cohesiveness in the team. As if even though you had said all the right words, JJ was feeding off your unspoken desire to find Emily, your unvoiced desperation for answers to the questions. Hotch had called you in the office, asking you to keep JJ in line, as if she was your responsibility.

And you did feel responsible. You wanted to keep her out of trouble, wanted to help her to get through this. You were probably the one who came closest to understanding, and she slammed shut every door in your face. Every time. But you still cared, about JJ, about Emily, it was why you were sitting here waiting on her doorstep.

But this is it. She has pushed you one step too far. Tonight, You're done with Jennifer Jareau.

You get up to walk away for the last time. You try to think of something hurtful to say as a parting remark, to get under her skin the way she has yours. But you're crying now and you don't want her to hear it in your voice, convinced by now that she gets some kind of satisfaction from pushing you to the point of tears. If not, why would she keep doing it? Why now when she has what she wants?

"Garcia, wait." She calls. You stop, but don't turn around. Not yet. You wait. "I'm sorry." She adds softly.

It's the first time since Emily vanished that you've heard those words from her mouth. It's what makes you turn and look at her. Seeing your tear stained face she apologises again "Garcia I'm so sorry. For everything I took out on you, It's not your fault. It's her, she did this, I hate her." JJ exclaims as she kicks over a pot plant, which loudly crashes to the ground near your feet. You inch closer hesitantly. 'I hate her!" She repeats angrily.

"It's ok" You tell her. And you wonder if it's true. It is ok, you do understand, and you're relieved beyond words that she called out to you before you'd walked away for good. But you think over the past weeks, all she's put you through, and you wonder, will it ever be ok between you two again? You resent Emily so much sometimes for doing this to all of you.

"I hate her." She tells you again, but this time she sounds broken, not angry "I hate her so much, and I'm so sorry I took everything out on you."

You step forward and embrace her and she tells you again and again. "I'm so sorry."

"It's ok." You reply again, and this time it feels like maybe it can be ok. "Tell me what happened? Did you see Emily?"

"Emily wasn't there." She finally tells you, and it takes a moment for that news to sink in.

Emily wasn't at her own mother's funeral?


	5. Chapter 4 & 5 Emily, JJ

_Chapter 4. _

_Emily. _

_"Un-Belonging."_

It's not the scorching heat makes you gasp for air to fill your lungs, even though it was snowing when you left the United States, and it feels as if you've stepped into the fiery pit of hell. Hot air burns you with every breath, and you look to your skin expecting it to melt away under the fierce heat. It's not the dusty desolation; the miles of open space as far as the eye can see that disarms you. You've lived in many and varied climates in your life time. Sure this is different, but you'll adapt. The thing that causes your hear to race is the way that conversation stops dead still all around you as you approach, the way people stare. They don't say anything, but you can feel it-you don't belong here.

People have always looked at you like this. It's just that now you have nothing to hide behind. Not 'I'm the ambassadors daughter'; Not 'I'm Agent Prentiss, FBI.' You have no mother, no badge, no gun, no respect in the eyes of anyone. You're no one- and you don't belong here.

You stare back, at these people, casually dressed in summer attire. You look down at yourself, in your immaculately tailored suit, perfectly groomed, well presented. Over twenty hours on a flight to Australia and there is not a hair out of place on the head of Emily Prentiss. Why should you be the one to feel so inferior?

Panic fills you, you feel your chest tighten, it's hard to breathe. You sit down for a moment, close your eyes. Chasing yourself in your mind through compartment after compartment, trying to find a place of peace. Deeper and deeper into the depths of your mind, knowing that, one day, you might not be able to find your way out.

_Chapter 5. _

_JJ. _

_"So untouched when she falls."_

"You first." Garcia challenges you as the two of you sit opposite each other at your kitchen table. And since you were the one who needed her, you obliged. You hadn't the first idea where to start in your search for Emily, you needed Garcia badly. You'd treated her like crap these last weeks, and still she was here helping you. It was only fair you went first and told what you knew.

There wasn't much you could tell. You tell her about that night you'd found Emily in your office knee deep in files, distressed about something, looking for something, you never found out what. But the more you think it over, the more significant it seems.

You don't tell Garcia what happened after. That somehow without you realising, Emily turned the tables on you, asked you what you were doing well after midnight back at the office. And at that you had burst into tears, without really knowing why. That when she asked you what was wrong you had no answer. 'Everything, just everything' You had told her. And Emily understood. That life, the job, sometimes it just builds up, it just got to you, and you felt like you had no where to turn.

You don't tell Garcia that Emily held you and stroked your hair. That she didn't try to reassure you with words of comfort, but sat with you in silent acknowledgement of the distress you felt. You don't tell Garcia that Emily had taken you home in the early hours of the morning, that she'd stayed the night with you, stayed with you until you had fallen asleep. You have no words to explain how Emily had made you feel safe, and sane. The two things you had most feared you were losing your grip on. That for the first time in a long time you hadn't had a single nightmare. You don't tell Garcia that. You've never told anyone how much that night meant to you, not even Emily. And now it's too late.

It's only now you realise how completely Emily turned things around that night, made you the one who felt like you owed her an explanation, when she was the one leafing through your office in secret in the middle of the night. Had she meant it that way, to be so deceptive, so cunning? Did she mean any of the things she had told you? Did she really care? Or was it all an elaborate rouse to keep you from suspecting…whatever it was she was up to? Were you really such a fool to fall for it? Had she meant any of the things she said that night?

You didn't want to doubt her. But Emily hadn't given you much to believe in lately. You'd spent your days passionately defending her to anyone who would listen. You wanted to be the one who believed in her unquestioningly, as she believed in you. But it was getting harder and harder every day that went by. Emily really hadn't left you much to work with. But still, you didn't want to let go of that feeling. It was real. You kept telling yourself, what you felt was real. It was all you had to hold on to. It was the most precious thing you had ever possessed. And that's why you had taken it out so harshly on the others, perceiving them as trying to take that from you. It didn't make sense, you realised, you couldn't explain to Garcia exactly why you had treated her so badly, she would never understand it.

Emily would have understood.

Garcia senses you holding back. "And?" She asks.

You hesitate. Trying to separate in your mind the things that may be important to finding Emily, and the incredibly personal things that you don't want to share. You've seen suspects and victims alike do similar, wanting to scream at them, '_For gods sake, can't you see we are trying to help you? We need all the facts. ALL the facts, what part of 'all the facts' don't you people understand?'_ ,It's the way Garcia looks at you now. And suddenly you understand why people hold so much back when it comes to their family, their lives.

"Look JJ, You've been harassing me for weeks, making my life hell at work, begging me to help you. Here I am, ok? But don't ask me to put my neck on the line and then hold out on me. It's not gonna work like that."

You swallow, realising again how your actions had affected Garcia. You'd been needlessly cruel. And you were sorry. After all Garcia wasn't the one ran out on you without so much as goodbye. At least Garcia was here. You owed her the truth.

She prompts you onwards. "I overheard you fighting with Emily, just before…"

"We weren't' fighting." You interrupt.

"Ok" She says. And waits for you to spill it.

Truth is that now that you look back, Emily had always been strange. And you start to wonder how much of that was just '_Emily being Emily'_ as you had put it down to, and how much was something more sinister. You hated the way you looked back at your relationship with Emily, analysed every word, every action, seeking some hidden meaning. You knew if anyone on the team tried to do that to you, you'd feel violated, betrayed. But your guilt about this was short lived, Emily brought this on herself. If she didn't want you digging around her life looking for answers, she could at least have said goodbye.

Her last words to you were, '_No thanks_', when you offered her coffee. She smiled at you, picked up her jacket and left the office. That was it. She knew that was it. She had said nothing, done nothing, not shed a single tear, not told you goodbye, not told you she loved you, just smiled and walked away. How could you ever find peace from that?

You thought back over the fight Garcia mentioned. At the time you hadn't considered it related to work, or anything sinister. Nothing beyond the fact you'd intruded too close into her space, forced yourself upon her, into her life. You'd meant well, honestly. You guessed she wasn't used to people caring about her the way you and the team did. But even taking that into account, her behaviour now seemed extreme. And the timing was too close to her disappearance to be a co incidence.

_Emily had brushed past you in the corridor, that morning. The morning after she had slammed the door shut in your face._

"_Emily." You'd said. You hadn't slept all night, wanting to make things right. _

"_Morning." She said, not harshly, not coldly. But it frightened you, Because you recognised nothing of the Emily you knew in her tone, in her facial expression. Emily was gone. It grieved you to see her acting this way, so fake, in front of you of all people. To see the wall she had put up between you. But more than that, it infuriated you. _

"_Emily, please, we have to work together if nothing else, can we sort this out?"_

_She smiled again. It was unnerving. You remembered the look in her eyes the previous night, the seething rage, the brokenness. It frightened you that look in her eyes. But this vacant smiling stranger frightened you more so. _

"_Its fine JJ. " She waved a hand dismissively._

_She demanded no apology, no explanation from you. And she offered none in return. You couldn't decide which bothered you more. _

"_I don't want things to be this way between us." You persisted. _

"_I don't know what you mean." She answered. _

_And you snapped. You'd had no sleep, worried sick about her. You'd only been trying to give something back to her, to be a friend the way she had done for you, she threw it in your face. And she stood here now, smiling at you. It made you see red._

"_Fuck you Emily. Is this how it's gonna be from now on? Fine, if that's how you want it. You know I only did what I thought was right, only did it because I care about you. That's what family do, Emily. That's how things work around here. If you're too screwed up to realize when someone who cares about you, is trying to do the right thing for you, then fuck you."_

_You regretted the words instantly, regretted you lost your cool, regretted that you'd given too much away as you waited for her profiler eyes to search your soul and see where that anger had come from. How much she had hurt you shutting you out like this. _

_You waited for her to bite back, to tell you that you have no right to decide the best thing for Emily Prentiss, to tell you that she was an adult , could decide for herself, to tell you to keep your nose out of her business, to tell you that you were the one who was screwed up. You expected her to fight back with that fury you'd seen the night before. It scared the hell out of you, that fury in her eyes, and yet now, faced with this blank smiling expression, you'd kill for that back. Kill to see even a little bit of feeling in those eyes again. Even kill to see those broken eyes, hear that small voice begging you on the verge of tears "JJ, no, please. Don't." _

_You waited for an apology. _

_She stood, cold and motionless as stone._

"_Thank you for your concern. Best if we forget it and move on?" She said politely._

_But it wasn't forgotten, there would be no moving on. You'd lost her, lost something precious, lost that connection you cherished more than any other human being. Here was this smiling stranger. It broke your heart. But standing here in the office you weren't about to let that show. Instead it was anger that came to the surface._

"_That's it? You're not sorry for the way you spoke to me last night, not sorry I've been awake all night worried sick about you, for slamming the door in my face after I spent all night with you trying to help you."_

"_I am sorry the whole thing happened." She replied, but her voice was shaky, you'd pushed a button. "But I can't control what you think, I didn't ask you to."_

"_Didn't ask me to come over last night? Or didn't ask me to care?" You want to know. You can't change either one now. _

_She refused to answer. "I suppose you've told everyone about last night." She says accusingly. _

"_No, actually. You asked me not to say anything and I respected that." _

_She laughed. "Oh so now you suddenly respect my wishes JJ?" She says sarcastically. But she is serious. Dead serious. Somehow she's painted you as the villain when you'd only been trying to help her. She's angry at you. And it makes your blood boil. You'd only done it because you cared. But there was no way to make her see that. _

"_So what if I do tell the others? People care about you. Is that so hard to get through your thick head, Prentiss? Maybe I will tell them. Maybe you should take a few days off." You're partly angry as you tell her this, wanting to get her back for the way she's hurt you. And you're partly concerned. She is acting strangely and it worries you. _

"_Are you implying I'm not capable of doing my job Agent Jareau?" She asks you. And it bothers her. You can see it in her eyes. That bothers her. Of all the things between you she's upset because you implied she needs to take a few days off? You can't believe her. Who is this person standing before you? It's not the Emily you know._

_You can't help the tears, you've fought them back all night long " Yeah Emily, that's what I'm saying, That's why I came round to your place in the middle of the night, that's why I'm standing here crying in the middle of my work place, because I'm concerned that you're not up to the job. God, Is that really what you think?" You ask her, completely exhausted and exasperated. _

_It was your tears that broke her. And you were glad something reached her, but why did it have to hurt you so much just to get through to her?_

_She speaks to you gently now "I'm sorry, I was rude to you, I know you were only trying to help JJ , I know that. But please let me tell you again- Everything is fine, Honestly. There is nothing to worry about. Forget it ok? It's under control."_

"_No", You told her as tears fell faster now. "It's not the things you said, not the things that happened, its that look in your eyes, that distant look, as if I'm a stranger, I don't want things to be like that for us. If that's how things are, that's fine, I can't change it. But I don't regret a single thing about last night." You boldly tell her. _

_For a moment, the longest moment, you wonder if she will think you're insane, pathetic, you wonder if you are. _

_She steps forward and hugs you then, whispering in your ear "I am sorry JJ, really I am sorry for last night." _

_What she doesn't say aloud is that she doesn't want things to be like this between you either, but her eyes say what her words can't. As she pulls away you look at her, and briefly you see the old Emily back. You dry your tears, pick up your case files, and walk to your office. Scared that if you linger too long looking into her eyes, Emily will be gone again. _

_She said little, but her eyes told you this. They whispered to you- _'It's ok JJ, I'm still here. But not unconditionally. I'll let you back in, let you get close, let you see me. This time. But don't ask me questions I don't want to answer, don't get too close, don't push me JJ. Because I won't fall and I won't break, I won't push back. I'll just disintegrate right before your eyes, seek refuge in my deepest compartments, and next time, you'll never be able to find me. '

_You knew it was true, You'd never find her if she wanted it that way. You wonder now if you'd been reading too much into her eyes. But what choice did you have, she offered you little else in the way of words. You wanted desperately, more than you ever wanted anything, for her to really let you in. But the more you tried, the further she retreated._

_Now she was lost to you in a different way, and you wondered if you'd pushed hard enough could you have prevented it? Or had you pushed too hard in the first place that it was somehow your fault?_

All of this you recount to Garcia, who listens intently.

"It's not your fault." She tells you first.

You simply nod, trying not to cry.

Then she asks that inevitable question "So what was it that happened that night?"


	6. Chapter 6 Garcia

_Chapter 6 _

_Garcia, JJ_

"_May the bridges I burn…."_

_**Garcia**_

You wait for her to answer your question. Wondering just why she is being so secretive. Why is she holding back? At first you had wondered if JJ had been somehow involved in whatever was going on. Was she protecting herself? Then you realise you were right, she _was_ protecting herself, but not in the way you'd imagined. Not against allegations of corruption or unprofessional conduct. Not protecting her job, or her reputation. She was protecting her heart.

_'It's too late'_, you want to tell her. You've already given it away, and she's taken it with her to God knows where.

"I just want to know she's ok, that's all." JJ's voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

"IS that all?" You ask. "Really,JJ, is that all you want?"

You both know the answer.

What if she isn't alright? You wonder. What are you gonna do about it then JJ? What could you possibly do, even if you wanted to? Even if you had the means? Even if you had the slightest clue what was going on? What can you do if Emily won't let you?

"Tell me." You prompt her again. "Everything."

_**JJ**_

You still can't explain exactly what it was that made you go over to her place that night. Just that you felt pulled there against your control. You'd wanted desperately to give something back to her, to make her feel safe and special and loved the way she had done for you. When she was absent from work for a few days you'd dropped by her house. You only wanted to make sure she was ok. To see if you could do something for her, anything, make dinner, just be there, like she was for you.

_She'd been not quite angry, something else, as she opened the door to find you standing there. You asked how she was, and she looked at you dumbly for a few moments before replying she was fine. You'd answered her that was great, and enquired if she'd be back to work tomorrow. She told you she wasn't sure. You noticed then the cut on the left side of her forehead. Bruises on her arms, The way she clutched her side as if she was in pain. You asked her what had happened. She told you 'Nothing'. _

_'It's late JJ', she said finally, not even trying to be subtle in getting rid of you._

_She stood in the doorway, keeping the door partially closed as if she was hiding something behind it. You noticed her hand resting on the door handle, shaking. Had you ever seen Emily Prentiss shaking? She was pale. She spoke little, at first you thought it because she was trying to get rid of you. You realised later she could hardly catch her breath let alone speak. As if all the energy had drained from her. As if she'd just run a marathon. As her protests that she was fine and you should leave grew more forceful, you could see her_ _struggling to catch her breath. Knuckles tightening around the door handle as if she was grasping it to hold herself up._

_She didn't fight you as you pushed the door open, came inside, pulled her along behind you and instructed her to sit down before she fell down. Perhaps she had no energy or perhaps she was shocked at the way you had barged into her house after she had told you to leave. She refused to sit, and stood leaning against the wall in the hallway. She reached for an inhaler in her pocket, which seemed to bring little relief._

_You stood uncertainly in front of her, beginning to get worried. She could no longer lift her head to face you. You saw her struggling for every breath, unable to speak. Using every accessory muscle just to draw breath into her lungs. You'd seen people before, sick, injured, dying, dead. You panicked. You'd reached for the phone to call an ambulance._

_"JJ, no", she had said firmly, gasping for air as she tried to speak. It cost her dearly uttering those words, and she slumped to the floor sitting with her head in her hands._

_You hesitated for a moment, so forceful was her protest that it did cause you to stop and re consider._

_"JJ please", she begged, a blue tinge to her lips as her eyes glazed over. You thought to yourself she was gong to pass out._

_That's when you turned from her, ignoring her protests. And picked up the phone to call an ambulance._

_She didn't say a word, but she gave you a deadly stare. 'How could you?' Her eyes demanded. She looked at you like you'd betrayed her somehow, like she was angry, disappointed, hurt, scared. All that in her weary, fading eyes made your own breath catch in your throat._

_It was only minutes before the paramedics arrived. Emily was fighting them as they applied oxygen mask, inserted an IV cannula. They were bombarding you with questions: Did she have asthma? Allergies? Anaphylactic reaction? Did she smoke? How did she hit her head? You shook your head. Not knowing. Hating yourself for not knowing. She fought them continuously, and you shuddered as they held her down. You watched on horrified._

_'"She's just confused, lack of oxygen can do that." The paramedic assured you._

_But you looked into her eyes, that poisonous stare, aimed at you. You felt every last part of it, it made you sick. It was all too real, all too pure, to be confusion from lack of oxygen or a head injury. Somehow even though you knew you did what you had to, what was right, you felt guilt at the look in her eyes._

_You'd waited four hours in the hospital before she came walking out into the waiting room._

_"You ok?" You asked tentatively, but sincerely, wanting to hug her, be close to her, to reassure her and yourself . But that look was still present in her eyes. It made you cautious._

_"I told you I was." she snapped._

_"Emily you could hardly breathe.." You tried to explain._

_"It's just Asthma JJ, I'm fine." You knew she was lying, or there was more she wasn't telling you. There wasn't anything you could do about it._

_"They let you go already?" You asked surprised._

_"Cant keep me here." She answered_

_"Emily…" You began._

_She cut you off. "I'm fine JJ, I told you I was fine, the Dr said I'm fine. You're the only one who thinks you know so much better than the rest of us." She said icily as she pushed past you._

_She left you standing there, bewildered, and wondering where the hell all that had come from._


	7. Chapter 7 JJ

_Chapter 7_

_JJ_

"…_..light my way"_

Garcia nodded, "I remember that day she came to work, Asking her about the cut on her head. She told everyone it was from a minor car accident. I believed her then, didn't think twice. You think that was true?" Garcia asks you.

You shrug. Yes Emily could be very convincing. But you'd always believed you could see through her. What was it that drove her to be so hidden? To be able to keep such a straight face as she looked people in the eye and lied so easily. No wonder Hotch believed she was capable of…whatever it was she was accused of. How would you ever know if she was telling the truth when she could deceive so easily and so convincingly. How is it possible she could look to you that day, smiling. Telling you "No thanks Jayj, I don't want coffee." And walk out of your life with no outward sign that anything was out of the ordinary. How is it possible for someone to act like that? How? And why?

"What do you think really happened?" Garcia asks.

You wish you knew. You had no idea about the cut on her head, the bruises on her arms, You didn't dare ask after what had happened. She asked you to forget it, not to tell the others that she'd been in the hospital. And you'd agreed.

You weren't sure if any of this had to do with finding Emily. But now you started telling the story, you couldn't stop.

You tell Garcia how Emily invited you back to her place the next day. You'd left something behind the previous night in your rush to get her to the hospital. You weren't sure why she had invited you round. Perhaps she genuinely felt bad having made you cry. She never explained. She never mentioned the previous evening. She just asked, and you'd come running.

_"Why are you really here?" Emily had asked, not in the accusatory tone that had become so usual when she spoke with you, just an open sincere question. You wanted to tell her it was because you cared. Because she cared about you, or so you hoped. Because you couldn't stop thinking about her._

_Instead you answered. "I need to collect my things."_

_"Well here you go then." She handed them to you, challenging you: What now? But you were sick of it, of making all the effort. Sick of the way she was acting. You weren't interested in this one sided relationship. But even though it was you making all the effort, it wasn't quite as one sided as it seemed. She was the one who sat with you when you couldn't sleep, took your hand calming all your fears, she was the one who gave so much to you. And it killed you not being able to give something back to her. That she didn't want you or need you in the way you wanted and needed her. She seemed more than willing to be there for you whenever you needed her, but she didn't want you there in the same way._

_You censor the version of events, not telling Garcia what happened next. How you stood there, feeling like you were about to cry. Looked Emily straight in the eye, willing her to understand all the things you could never say aloud to her._

'Please Emily, I love you, please let me in, please trust me, please don't shut me out like this.'

_And somehow, you're not sure how or why, something must have reached her. Because suddenly she was looking back at you. Emily. And you realised it had been a long time since you'd looked into those eyes and seen Emily. She moved towards you, touching your face gently, kissing you. You dreamed of kissing her many times. She had listened to your deepest secrets, held you and stroked your hair, but she'd never gone so far as to kiss you._

_Suddenly she was so unguarded, so open, so vulnerable. You felt more connected to her than ever before. And even though it was what you dreamed of; even though you'd never experienced anything like it in your life, ever; even though you never wanted to be apart from her again; somehow her intensity and proximity frightened you. You felt this overwhelming need to breathe. What were you doing? To your career ? To your friendship with Emily?_

You don't tell Garcia that you'll never forgive yourself for pulling away from her in that moment. Never forgive yourself for the look you saw briefly flicker in her eyes. Hurt. Embarrassed. Ashamed.

_"I'm sorry." She muttered as her eyes quickly clouded over as she backed away, leaving you feeling like you were once again talking to a stranger._

_You wanted to tell her '_no, don't be sorry_'. Wanted to explain that it wasn't what she thought. Wanted to beg her to come back. But the words wouldn't come. How could you explain it anyway? How could you tell her that you wanted it so much that it made you afraid to breathe? So you said nothing. Not that night in that moment. Not any time since. It's one of the many things that haunt you. One of the reasons you need to find her. You need her to know how you really feel. To believe you when you say that you love her. But now she is gone._

You take a breath as those memories flood your consciousness. Finally you reach the part of the story that you can speak aloud. The part that might mean something in your search for Emily. You continue, telling Garcia how Emily had gone upstairs, telling you to let yourself out. To this very day you don't know what you would have done next if there hadn't been a knock at the door. Would you have left? Would you have followed her? You'll never know.

_"Is Emily here?" The woman in the doorway asked you. You must have looked confused. She reached into her bag "I brought these, pain killers. She left the hospital in a hurry last night." You recognised the woman then as one of the Doctors you'd seen last night at the hospital. She didn't offer her name, and you noticed that she took care not to mention her name, as if she didn't want you to hear it for a reason._

_You let her in, eyeing her suspiciously. Something didn't sit right, you couldn't put a finger on what it was. "It's unusual for Doctors to make house calls these days." You remarked._

_She wasn't put off by your tone, answering you brightly "We only make house calls to our most stubborn and idiotic patients." You detect hostility in her tone that made you defensive. And a familiarity with Emily that made you burn with jealousy._

_She looked more like an artist than a Doctor. She was adorned in the most outrageous clothes, that you wouldn't ever dream of putting together. But seeing it on her it actually looks quite fetching. She can get away with it somehow. The knee length boots of a cowboy, flowing floral skirt of a gypsy, and the neat knitted top of a school girl._

_"Are you fucking kidding me?" Emily said incredulously as she came down and saw this woman standing in her living room._

_The woman wasn't put off by the unfriendly reception "Thought you might need these." She stretched out her hand with the box of pain killers._

_"I don't." She said coldly. "Get out of my house."_

_The woman didn't move. "Geesh Emily don't be such a bitch, I just thought we could talk."_

_She was completely unlike Emily in her manner. She was straightforward, upfront. She spoke in a rush without considering her words at all. She seemed completely unguarded, as opposed to Emily. Despite the animosity between them, there was an ease and informality in the way they spoke to one another. It left you feeling they knew each other beyond a chance meeting in a hospital. It left you curious. And jealous._

_The woman made no attempt to leave. Realising that she wasn't going anywhere, Emily turned to you. "I'll see you tomorrow JJ." She hinted at you to leave. You felt somehow better that she had at least asked you nicely. It terrified you that she wouldn't look you in the eye after what had happened. You wondered if she would ever look you in the eye again. You wanted to tell this woman to leave, you had things you needed to work out with Emily, you couldn't let her keep thinking that you didn't want her. But you knew enough to know there would be no getting through to her in this moment. Reluctantly you left. Wanting so badly to tell her something, anything. To tell her it wasn't what she thought, to tell her you'd call her later, to tell her you loved her and wanted to be with her more than anything. But the words wouldn't come._

_"Yeah see ya." You mumbled sadly, letting yourself out._

_You knew it was wrong to listen in to their conversation, and you admitted it was partly jealousy that tempted you to do it, partly curiosity._

_"What the fuck is wrong with you? Honestly what is your problem?" Emily demanded to know._

_"I just want you to know how grateful I am, how sorry I am, that I'll make it up to you."_

_"You can't." Emily replied coldly. "Ever."_

_"I need to believe we can make something good out of all of this." The woman went on. You began to feel sorry for her. She sounded sincere, and you could relate to her, trying so hard to reach Emily and feeling like you're talking to a brick wall._

_"We?" Emily asked. "WE can't make anything good out of this. Get the fuck out of my life."_

_"Fine. You know where to find me if you change your mind." And then she had left._

You don't tell Garcia how relief flooded you as you watched from the shadows, to see that woman leaving. She had something you didn't have, knowledge, history. You'd convinced yourself that this woman was Emily's girlfriend. That the two of them would spend the night together. That Emily would tell that woman all her secrets, open up to her and let her see the deepest parts of her. That woman would be the one to hold her and kiss her and wake up beside her. You hated that woman for that. Hated yourself more when you realised it was your own damn fault for pulling away from her. It was just a momentary hesitation, but it was enough to push Emily away. And you weren't certain you'd ever get her back.

You tell Garcia that you hadn't thought twice about the woman, not until you'd seen her at the Ambassadors funeral.

Garcia nods slowly. "That woman. I'm sure I've seen her before. Long red-brown hair that looks like it's never been brushed?"

"Yeah." You nod eagerly "That's her, you know her?"

"No." She answers. "But I've seen her."


	8. Chapter 8 Hotch

_Chapter 8_

"_Bound…" _

_(Hotch)_

You return to the office, weary. Longing to talk it over with someone. What could it mean? Emily wasn't at her own mother's funeral? But you know you can't stir the others up. Enough already. Prentiss aside, just what were you going to do with the rest of your team? Fire the lot of them? No, not all of them, you remind yourself. Its only one causing the trouble. You hoped it wouldn't come to that. But JJ was pushing your limits. You would have sent her on holidays long ago, but you knew just how she'd spend that time. You decided it was best to keep her close, occupied. You'd honestly thought it would blow over. JJ wouldn't be foolish enough, reckless enough, to throw away her whole career, or would she? Had you underestimated her? Underestimated the power Emily held over her? You respected her in a way. Almost wishing you'd been able to make your own choice differently. Just because the BAU was forefront on your life didn't mean JJ would choose the same path. Trouble was, JJ hadn't chosen. She hadn't walked away from the BAU in pursuit of Emily. Not yet. Neither had she done what she was asked and let the matter go. If she continued to defy your orders, seek Emily out, to stir the others up causing dissention among the team, then her choice would be made. And so would yours. It would be out of your hands. You didn't know how to stop it. Or if you should even keep trying?

You want to ask JJ what she thought about Emily being absent from the Ambassadors funeral. JJ had been there, clearly waiting for Emily also, expecting Emily. But after threatening to fire her for doing just exactly what you're now doing, it was hypocritical of you to ask her to discuss it with you. You didn't want JJ to know you'd been at the funeral too. How could you explain that to her? You know Garcia could give you answers with the press of a button. But you can't ask her either. Not after threatening her job for exactly that. Not when you know how close she is to JJ, to Emily. Not after all the effort you put in convincing her to let it go. You can't discuss it with Rossi. He doesn't understand where you're coming from, not in the slightest. He didn't know Emily well. She is just an untrustworthy colleague to him. He doesn't understand that, to you and the others, she is family. You can't talk to Morgan, he is angry. Unlike the others, he isn't angry with you. It's Emily and only Emily his anger is directed towards. Although deep down you realise he is angry at himself too- that he didn't see this coming. You couldn't talk to Reid, he really didn't want to know, to get involved. It seemed to be too much for him to make sense of. It didn't add up in any way at all and he couldn't comprehend it, so he pushed it aside. You know you need to let it go too, for the sake of the team. You can't. Damn Emily Prentiss. Just what was she playing at?

You have one contact who still works for Ambassador Prentiss. What harm could one phone call do?

Your old colleague informs you that the Ambassador died of a massive heart attack. You find yourself sighing in relief. Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you couldn't help that brief thought- had Emily something to do with her mothers death? You didn't really believe it of her, didn't want to. But you can't alter the way your mind functions. Suspicions, asking questions, putting things together, making sense of events. You need it all to make sense.

You finally bring Emily into the conversations. "It's a terrible tragedy for her only daughter." You mused.

"Tragedy alright." Your colleague agrees. "She's been disowned, just weeks ago. Cut out of the will entirely. That girl won't see a penny of the Ambassadors money."

The news surprises you, but you don't think of Emily as the sort of person to be upset by the financial side of things. But disowned? Cut out of the estate entirely? Why?

You ask the question, but he can't answer you.

"She was an only child. What's going to happen to all that money?" You enquired.

"A bit of legal fuss over that. Ambassador Prentiss did have a current will and testament. Bequeathed the whole lot to one lucky guy. Not a family member. But some distant relatives are disputing it, plan to contest the will. Probably be tied in the court for years. Shame."

"Who did she name in her will?"

"Nicholas St James."

You manage to somehow politely say goodbye and place the phone down. The name doesn't mean much to you. But you had recognised it instantly, as a name that had come up on that paperwork. Those charges against agent Prentiss. That man had been named. You can't fathom just how this all ties together. Emily was involved with this man? He with her mother? And yet her mother disowned her? It made no sense to you. You owed it to Emily, to your own curiosity, to your team. Perhaps it would do nothing to help Emily now. But maybe you'd be able to finally put this to rest. You needed truth, a reason. Emily wouldn't give it to you, but you would find it.


	9. Chapter 9 Emily

_Chapter 9 _

"…_& Broken" _

_Emily_

You survey the harsh unfamiliar landscape. Your initial relief to be on solid ground and off that plane which was far too small to be truly safe, was short lived. Dust covered everything in sight. Just mountains of pale dusty dirt as far as your eye could see in this desolate mining town .It was almost like stepping onto another planet, and you can understand instantly why the town is a favourite location for science fiction film makers. This hot dusty dump was a far cry from what you had imagined.

You've never felt so lethargic. '_It's the heat.'_ You tell yourself. Although you'd never noticed the climate to affect you in such a way, not even growing up in the middle eastern desert. Nothing as external, as meaningless, as uncontrollable, as weather had ever affected you. You've always been so far caught up inside yourself for any outside force to get through to you in that way. Perhaps you were just older now, perhaps your compartmentalising skills had been shot to shit. Perhaps you're just tired. You realise you've lost everything. What's the point in going on alone? Suddenly it seems so tiring just to keep going.

Piles of discarded earth covered the horizon, and deep holes that had been sunk in the search for opals. You can almost taste the broken dreams in the air, the men who had given up everything desperately seeking their fortune, those rare lucky ones who found it , and those who had not, those who were still here in this god forsaken place searching for a beautiful treasure in the midst of this hell. It seemed somehow fitting that such a precious stone should come from such a harsh ugly environment. Beautiful things are often found in such places. You wonder if you'll find the thing you're searching for here?

You remind yourself there is a reason to keep going. Just one reason left.

Deep inside your mind you wonder if that's the truth. You think over the impossible things you were told before you left the USA. It couldn't be true. They were just taunting you. The three of them. Lying to get back at you. Or to cover their own skin. Or just because they are completely insane.

You'd hadn't believed them at first.

He was crazy. You knew that. Cold, calculating, remorseless. He hated you. He was trying to hurt you. It was revenge. He made up crazy stories trying to get to you. You'd shrugged it off. Completely. It was that simple.

And then she told you the exact same thing. It was harder to walk away from her. You couldn't understand what she would gain from corroborating his story. She didn't hate you, not any more. But she did want something from you. Absolution. Something you couldn't give her. It was you angry at her, not the other way around. Was she trying to manipulate you somehow? She's crazy too, you decided. But it was harder to ignore her as she stood before you in tears, begging you to listen to her.

You couldn't let it go after that. And finally you'd confronted your mother. Expecting her to laugh in your face. Or to vehemently deny it. You hadn't expected her to flinch away from your words, then stand there silent for a moment. A flicker of annoyance in her eyes before telling you it was a long time ago, forget it. You stared at her in disbelief. She didn't deny it. There was guilt written all over her face. Guilt, but not regret. That's the moment you let yourself believe he might have been telling you the truth.

Still with your own eyes you needed to see it. And then?

It was fortunate this town was a dump. You stood out. You were counting on the fact they would come to you. You were lacking your usual resources, finances and courage. All you could do was wait. How hard could it be in this tiny town for them to hear that you'd come looking for them? Not hard. It won't be long.

You wonder how people can survive in this town. It is unbearably hot, there are no trees, no grass, no clouds, no rain. Nothing to sustain life at all. You wonder if there are even any jobs to maintain the population. Surely people were not still mining for opal other than as a hobby. Surely all the opal had been long ago claimed. Perhaps tourism brought people to this quaint town in the cooler months. Other than that you can see no means of living in this dead end desert place in the middle of nowhere. You ask yourself the question. What are THEY doing HERE?

There is no answer, and you comfort yourself this is all a trick. Just a cruel sick joke the three of them somehow concocted. You'd been pushed, and pulled, lied to, and threatened, blackmailed and manipulated. Why should any of them now tell you the truth? It was all lies and you were wasting your time in this dump. But you have to know for sure. There is no turning back now, even if you had somewhere to turn to.


	10. Chapter 10 Garcia

_Chapter 10_

_"What I came for" Part (i)_

_Garcia_

_Three months prior_

It wasn't the woman you remembered first off. It was the little boy. Cute kid. He smiled at Emily. She smiled back. 'Nicholas', Emily had called him. He cried when he saw her. Ran up to her and hugged her. She looked surprised. Overwhelmed.

He came alone. You remembered thinking he was young to be alone, maybe 8 or 9. Marched right into the office late one afternoon and asked to speak with Emily.

Emily had come to your office later, and asked if you'd keep an eye on him 'for a few minutes.' You looked confused, wanting to ask her what was going on. But you held your tongue in front of him. He smiled at you and you really had no choice but to agree. She was right, he was a good kid. Well mannered. Sweet. He played computer games in your office.

Emily left without saying goodbye to him, you noticed it as odd immediately. He noticed it too. "Where is Emily?" He asked you after she had left.

"She'll be back in a few minutes." You told him, believing it to be true. It's what Emily had said to you.

"Yeah, right." He mumbled, clearly not believing you.

Emily had never come back that day. Instead the boy's mother, the woman JJ described, had come to collect him. Only minutes later. She was cautious, anxious. Constantly looking over her shoulder. She attracted your instant attention, the way she was dressed, she wasn't afraid to stand out in a crowd.

"She's not here." The boy told said to his mother before she could speak a word to him.

"No, Of course not." She mumbled under her breath. Aggravated, and disappointed, and relieved all at once if such a thing were possible.

She hugged the boy quickly, but said nothing to him. He left with her reluctantly. Stopping to wave goodbye to you.

"Come on, Nicholas." She said to the boy.

"Sure." He told her, shrugging. "I got what I came for."


	11. Chapter 11 Emily

_Chapter 11_

_"What I came for" (ii)_

_Emily_

_Three months prior_

It had been years. Not long enough to forget. Though you fooled yourself sometimes, that you had put the entire chapter behind you forever. Erased it from your life.

If you were honest with yourself, you still thought about it. Thought about her. You still turned, without thinking, expecting her to be standing by your side. But for the most part you pushed it aside. Went on with your life. It worked fine.

Up until the point she came looking for you. Until she come came barging into the new life you'd built millions of miles away from her. She had come here, with the audacity to ask you for help.

After the things she'd said, the things she'd done, the things she'd accused you of. You marvelled at her nerve.

"I'm sorry." She told you.

You doubted her sincerity. You wanted to believe it, but you couldn't afford to take her at face value. Not anymore. She needed something. Of course she said she was sorry.

"I know you don't believe me." She added quickly, reading your mind in that eerie way she always seemed able to do.

You had always imagined you'd feel somehow vindicated if this day ever came. Yet her sudden complete change of heart alarmed you. She had always held so tightly to her convictions. There was only one thing that would have swayed her. She had seen it with her own eyes, experienced it herself. And as much as you resented her, as much as you wanted her to know you were right, this thought frightened you. What had happened to her? What had she experienced that made her so sure now that you were telling the truth?

You made no response to her apology. Silence was your way of maintaining power, control, composure.

You prided yourself on the passive, graceful way you dealt with conflict. It was effective enough for the most part. You had enough confidence in yourself not to need to defend yourself angrily or attack someone else.

Somehow, with her, it was always a fight to the bitter death. Maybe it was that you had no confidence with her? Or maybe just that she would push your buttons, and push and push, and she knew how. You'd let her know you. She wouldn't stop until she got a reaction, not until she got to the real, raw, honest feelings.

You thought it was a destructive way to communicate. She never stopped along the way to assess the damage. There were things you both said that you could never rescind. And once she broke you, you always managed to hurt her equally. It was pathetic, vicious, self destructive.

And yet somehow it was the most real thing you had. More real than the relationship you had with your mother. Somehow this was the most stable, precious relationship in your life. For a long, long time. When you think of family, it's not your cold distant mother, nor your father, that comes to mind. It's her. Her and her son who adored you.

"I understand you hate me." She told you.

"I don't hate you." You interrupted her, instantly regretting it. Let her think you hate her. What difference will it make?

"Please." She said finally. "I need you to help my son."


	12. Chapter 12 Francesca

**Chapter 12**

"**Greater truth……**

**Francesca St James**

**Present day**

You watch your son. Thinking about what a miracle it is that he is alive. Promising yourself you will never take him for granted again. Promising yourself you'll be a better person. Someone worthy of being his mother. Promising yourself that you will find a way to pay Emily back for the things she did to save your son.

Something has been on your mind for weeks.

"Nicholas?" You ask him.

He looks up at you. "Yeah Mom."

"What is it that you came for?"

He looks confused.

"At Emily's office, that's what you said, that you 'got what you came for'."

"Oh." He tells you, nodding. "I wanted to tell Emily something."

"What?"

"Ask her."

That frustrates you instantly. Secrets between her and your son. You want to push it further but the insistent knocking at your door distracts you.

"Francesca St James?" The blond woman asks you.

"Frankie." You correct her. You recognise these two women at your door. The first, the one who had spoken, from Emily's apartment. The second woman you recognised from the FBI building the day you had collected Nicholas.

Guilt rises up in you, even though you know you haven't committed any crime. There is something alarming about the FBI showing up at your door.

"Can I help you?" You ask nervously.

"We're looking for Emily Prentiss." The first woman speaks.

You laugh. "Well you're certainly in the wrong place then."

"Do you know where we might find her?" The other woman asks.

"She would have told you if she wanted you to know." You answer defensively.

"It's really important that we find her." The first woman pleads with you.

"You're the FBI, isn't it your job to find people?" You ask.

"We're not here as the FBI." She answers. "We're here as Emily's friends."

"If you're her friends shouldn't you know where she is?" It seems logical to you.

"She wasn't at her mother's funeral, and we wanted to make sure she was ok."

You're not sure what to make of that. On the one hand they seem sincere. But on the other, they are keeping something from you.

You look over your shoulder. Your son is safe. Emily still hates you. What the hell.

"She's in Australia." You answer finally.


	13. Chapter 13 Emily

_**Chapter 13**_

"…_**..Behind small lies."**_

_**Emily**_

_**Two months earlier**_

You had woken in the hospital expecting to see JJ. You vaguely remembered her coming to your apartment. Trying to get her to leave. Then everything went black. Instead you open your eyes and see Francesca.

You close your eyes again tightly, hoping that you're dreaming.

You'd done it. Everything she asked of you. It would probably cost you your career. But it was worth it, that was unquestionably. You didn't regret it and you'd do it again. She hadn't forced you.

The thing that sat uneasily with you was the fact she was still here, in your face, asking things of you that you could never give her. Forgiveness. Absolution. Reconciliation.

"Get out." You tell her instantly.

"That's it?" She asks you. "You're just kicking me out of your life? Walking away again? What am I supposed to tell Nicholas?" She demands.

"What did you tell him three years ago?" You ask bitterly, wondering what the child made of all this. What things had she had told him about the reason you disappeared from his life without even saying goodbye? Did he ask about you? Did he miss you? Did she?

"I told him.." She begins, and you realise with horror that she is actually going to answer to you.

"Stop!" You exclaim. You don't actually want to know. It doesn't matter. "Just go, please, back to your real life, far away from here. I don't even want to see you again."

"He did this to you." She states without asking as she motions to the bruises on your arms, the fractured ribs, the gash on your head. .She never uses his name anymore. Ever. But you know who she is talking about.

"Would you believe me if I said yes?" You answer her question with a question.

"I never doubted you." She says it so sincerely it almost makes you laugh.

"Excuse me? You took his word over mine every single time." You must have hit you on the head pretty hard, because you can hardly believe you're letting yourself get sucked into an argument with her.

"That's because he was the only one talking to me!" She yells.

She is angry with you. It takes a moment to register. Because it is so absurd. Her eyes cloud over with seething rage. No doubt about it. She is angry with you. Implying somehow that you hadn't tried hard enough to make her believe you. Implying that you could have stopped this all somehow. That everything he did is your responsibility. Initially this infuriates you. And yet it only takes a second for that seed of guilt she planted to take root. Yes, you knew what he was capable of. You didn't stop him. That does make you responsible. And nothing you can do, even risking all you have to help her son, will change that.

'You should have told me." She protests in a calm tone "That's all I was saying."

"I was trying to protect you." You answer before you can stop yourself. You don't owe her an explanation.

""Protect me?? How is that protecting me? If you wanted to protect me you could have warned me. You could have told me the truth. And anyway, I never asked you to protect me, Emily."

No she never asked. But she was your younger sister. Half sister. It was your job, wasn't it? But nothing you say will be good enough, you know this already. She's already decided you're the one in the wrong.

She's on a roll, you have no chance interrupting her even if you wanted to. "You know what I think? I think you were protecting yourself, Emily."

"I tried to tell you…" You say calmly, putting your mask back in position. Trying not to let her see how much her words have affected you. She's right. You were protecting yourself.

"No." she interrupts. "That's not good enough."

"And you would have believed me if I had told you?" You ask.

You both know the truth. No. She doesn't waste your time denying it.

"I asked you, looked you in the eye and asked you straight out. And instead of trusting me, You ran away. Just washed your hands of us and ran away."

Ran away? That wasn't the way you remembered it. You remembered it as being exiled. From your family, your father, your sister, your nephew.

"It's best that we don't see each other again. Go back to your life." You tell her calmly. Telling yourself at the same time that she is a stranger to you now, it means nothing.

"I don't want things like that." She says at last.

"Too bad. It's the way things are." You answer coldly.

"We can put the past behind us. We're family. We can start again, this is a second chance."

"It's too late for second chances."

She is still standing there.

"He is telling the truth." She finally utters.

"What?" You ask.

"The things he told you, they are true. Your daughter is alive."

You open your mouth to say something, to tell her she is crazy, to tell her once again to get out of your life. To ask her if she really hates you so much to throw that in your face? But you can't speak.

"If you don't believe me, ask your mother." She finishes quietly, and then turns, finally, and walks out.


	14. Chapter 14 JJ

Chapter 14

JJ

"She didn't say anything to you? Anything at all? About going to Australia?" Garcia keeps asking you the question, even though she is living through this nightmare right alongside you. She more than any of the others felt the effect of your anger and confusion at the way Emily had disappeared without a trace, without warning, without good bye. You would have told her if you had the first idea where Emily might have gone.

"No." you keep telling her. "Emily said nothing to me."

You rack your brain, trying to remember that last time you had seen Emily. Emily had walked out of Hotch's office that morning. Calmly. Her head held high. She smiled at you. So purely it made your heart skip a beat. Things had been strained over the past weeks between the two of you. You couldn't quite remember the last time you had seen her smile. The last time she had looked right at you. Emily had always spoken to you with her eyes. That morning, when she looked right at you, you realised how much you'd been missing that eye contact. And you started to think that finally, maybe, you were getting somewhere with her. Maybe she was beginning to trust you, maybe you were beginning to let go of all your fears and doubts. Maybe, finally, things were going right.

That moment, as Emily smiled at you, you wanted to believe her eyes were telling you that she loved you, that she understood, that she wanted to trust you and wanted you to trust in her.

And you believed she somehow deciphered the message your own eyes replied, that you loved her too, that you wanted to be with her. That you could break down the walls you'd each built up high so high around yourselves. That finally you were ready to push every obstacle out of the way and let go of the things that had always held you back. That you couldn't wait until the day was over to be alone with her tonight.

Exchanging glances with her in that moment, You felt like you could do anything, like you and Emily together could achieve anything. Nothing could ever stand in your way. But none of this could you say in the crowded office building, so you smiled back at her brightly. Knowing that she would understand you in that way she always seemed able to. That she would see you loved her, that you were ready, that things would work out. For those few minutes you truly believed it would all be that easy.

After Emily had vanished, you wondered if she had ever truly seen you, if you'd ever seen her? Had you built this up in your imagination something that was never real?

You felt her eyes that morning, penetrating deep into your soul, deeper than any person had ever been. And yet if she had truly seen you, if she truly knew you the way you believed in, how could she possibly have turned and walked away from you just like that? If she knew she was holding your heart in her hands, how could she have left you behind?

Still, somehow, it hurt less to see things that way than to believe Emily had never seen you at all, never known you. That you love a phantom, the woman you love doesn't exist outside your own over active imagination. That the most real relationship you ever had, the person who touched you on levels you never dared to dream, that person didn't exist. It was meaningless. And you were invisible. You didn't exist outside of her. Your very survival depended on this—she saw you, she knew you, she loved you. She was gone, where did that leave you? If the Emily you love does not exist, than neither do you.

You had brightly asked Emily that last morning if she wanted coffee. 'No thanks,' She told you, looking you straight in the eyes, still smiling at you. She picked up her jacket and walked out. That was it.

Over and over you played that scene in your mind. You looked again and again into her eyes, searching layer upon layer. There must have been something there, something you missed. Her eyes had always spoken to you. Across crowded rooms in the midst of chaos she would look at you and you would see straight into her heart, into her mind. That morning, you looked, and what you thought you saw was love, understanding, peace. There was no hint of sorrow, fear, regret, anything you'd expect to see knowing she was walking away from you, from the team, for good. And it made you wonder, did she really feel nothing as she left that life behind her? Or was it just hidden so deeply along with every other thing she kept from you?

"She never mentioned Australia to you? Ever?" Garcia is still questioning you, although you're not giving her your full attention. She is trying to piece together the latest piece of information you had discovered from Francesca St James. The sum total of which was this- Emily was in Australia. For a moment you felt peace, finally you knew where Emily was. Until it sunk in just how big the great south land was, how far away from you, how unreachable. Until you stopped to realise that you still had no idea why Emily had gone there, if she was ok, Who is this woman Francesca?

Francesca had been less than forth coming with information, you suspected she knew more, but felt powerless to find out what it was. You would have tried harder though, if Garcia hadn't pulled you away, afraid of the woman putting in a complaint about the FBI harassing her.

"No." You answered again. "Emily never mentioned Australia."

It had been easy enough to confirm Francesca's story without compromising your job. Emily had boarded a plane to Australia that very morning she walked out of the BAU.

"She used her own name, her own passport. She could have covered her tracks if she didn't want to be found." Garcia shares her thoughts with you.

"I suppose she thought no one would bother to look for her. " You add sadly, wondering if that really was the case. If Emily had just disappeared like that believing you would heed Hotch's warning, forget her, move on. Did Emily really believe you wouldn't find her, wouldn't follow her to the ends of the earth?

Instantly you begin adding up your savings, wondering just how much a ticket to Australia costs, how quickly you can get over there. Garcia thinks you've finally snapped and lost your mind.

"Do you know how big that country is? How are you going to find her when you get there? How are you going to pay for it? What about your job? And if you find her, what then JJ? "

And you begin to panic, realising you've lost your one ally from the team. Garcia is losing faith in Emily, in you. Its not that you don't see her point. Why should you toss in your job, spend your savings, fly across the world searching for someone who walked out and left you for dust without a glance. You have no answer for her. Only that you have to do it somehow.

"Maybe….you should just stop and think a minute." Garcia begins. And you know what's coming "Is this worth it JJ? Come on we've given it our best shot. Emily knows where to find us if she wanted to or needed to."

"I thought you cared about Emily, I thought you wanted to help me find her." You say, intentionally hardening your tone, to make it sound like an accusation. As you say it, your voice is filled with every bit of anger, resentment, bitterness that you can muster. And none of it should be aimed in Garcia's direction.

The look in her eyes cuts right through you, reminding you once again that your attitude is misplaced. Guilt looms over you as you remember the way you had treated Garcia. All because Emily had become front and center in your life, you pushed every one else aside as if they didn't matter compared to Emily. You nearly lost your best friend in the process. And were still no closer to finding Emily. Garcia doesn't deserve your anger, and you've hurt her enough already. But you're desperate, can't she see that? So you stare back, refusing to apologise.

"I care." Garcia tells you, and she is angry now. "Don't ever tell me that I don't care! Do you know how many nights I've lost sleep, do you know I'm risking my job to even be here talking about this with you? I care. But I care about you too, JJ. I just don't want you to get hurt. I don't understand this, any of this. I don't know where Emily has gone, or why, and I just don't want to lose you too." She is still trying to sound angry, but you can see she is on the verge of tears, and you feel guilty. You don't know what to say to her. You want to give her what she wants to hear. You can't.

Garcia's words echo in your consciousness.

_Was this worth it? Was any of this worth it?_

It's what you want to ask Emily too_. Was it worth it? Whatever reason you had for doing this to us, was it worth it Emily?_

You knew all too well that you seemed crazy to anyone on the outside. Maybe you were just extremely sad and pathetic. Chasing someone who didn't want you, chasing someone to the other side of the planet who couldn't be bothered to even say goodbye to you. Was it just that you couldn't live with the way she had left you this confusion and uncertainty hanging over your head? If she's come to you or even left you a note saying 'JJ I'm not interested' Would you have accepted it? If she'd openly resigned from the BAU, moved on to some other job, would you have smiled and wished her well? Would you have let her go?

Finally you break the awkward silence that had fallen over you. "I understand. If you don't want to help me anymore, I understand. Thank you for everything you've done. But I'm going to Australia. I'm going to find Emily. Don't try and stop me. You can't."

"Do you ever wonder if Emily even wants you to find her, JJ? Maybe she's just moved on without you." Garcia suggests, her final attempt to persuade you. You can tell she doesn't believe it, doesn't believed Emily has just 'moved on', but her words hurt none the less.

"I don't care what Emily wants." You answer, bitterly. After the way she left you, shattered the team, why should you care about what she wants. Deep down, in the deepest part of you, you can't shake the feeling that Emily is in trouble, that she needs you. You can't make the others understand that. Maybe you are crazy. But you can't live with yourself if you don't try, can't face another day knowing Emily is out there and you hadn't done everything in your power to find her. Of course the team thought you crazy. But you knew Emily better than they did, you let her down in ways you can never make up to her. You have to do this. You know it.

Garcia nods silently in acknowledgement, and turns and walks away.

Once you're alone, You think back to the last case you had worked with Emily. Only days before she disappeared. You can't even remember the details of the case, or the city you found yourself in. The thing that stands out was that you shared a room with Emily that last night before flying home.

It wasn't an unusual occurrence. You often shared together when required to stay overnight away from home. It was the third, and last, night in that city. The past two nights you had lay awake most of the night. Listening to her breathing, remembering how it felt when she had kissed you. Remembering that you have never desired anyone more than you desired her in that moment. And yet you pulled away.

You couldn't even understand your own actions, there was no way you could expect her to either. That look in her eyes that briefly flashed across her face broke your heart. And then it had vanished, and in its place had been that fake composed expression ever since that day. Things had been awkward from that point on. But she smiled at you, was polite. You managed to function professionally as part of the same team. And to the team it may have seemed nothing was out of the ordinary. But at nights when the others had turned in to sleep, when the sun had vanished and left you wrapped in familiar darkness, that's when you felt it. Felt the loss of her as if part of yourself had died. Even though she stood before you, slept only metres away from you, living and breathing, something was missing. You longed for it, grieved for it, almost felt like you would die without it. And yet you made no move to get it back.

The past months, whenever you and Emily shared a room together, you'd formed a habit of sharing a bed, holding one another all night long. It began after a particularly gruesome case, neither of you could sleep. And she came over, took your hand, and before you knew it was lying beside you, wordlessly, pulling you so close you could feel her heart beating. And from that night on, she came each night to your bed. It felt so natural to you, you slept so peacefully. You never engaged in anything other than touching. It was as if she sensed your fear somehow. Your many fears. Apprehension about becoming involved with a colleague, doubts about your own sexuality, and just that simple fear of losing control. Your feelings for her were so strong, it gave her so much power over you. She made you feel like you couldn't breathe. It was foreign to you. And had she asked more from you at the time, you would have pushed her away.

You grew accustomed to her touch at night, the way she held you gently, the way her fingers caressed your skin softly, the gentle whispers in your ears. You missed her closeness in the daylight hours when you had to keep a professional distance. But ever since the day she had kissed you and you pulled away from her, she had stopped coming to your bed at nights. And you lay awake, colder and more lonely than you had ever felt in your life. You lay there, alone, wondering if she missed having you in her arms as much as you missed her? The intensity of your own desire for her in that moment frightened you.

You knew it was you who had to make the move, after you were the one to reject her when she kissed you. The thought of her rejecting you send chills down your spine. You always thought of yourself as a fairly brave person. She turned you into coward, and you resented her for that. You realise in that moment how afraid she must have been when she kissed you. Afraid of your rejection. Or was she so confident that you would reciprocate that she never felt fear?

Either way, she had kissed you. Pushed aside her own fear and dignity, and followed her heart. You saw it in her eyes that night, that she loved you. But you saw something else too- that she needed you. You'd never felt needed by her before. Not in the way you needed her. It infuriated you that she wanted to be there for you constantly , never allowing you to reciprocate, never letting you in the way you let her in to your life, told her your every secret.

That night, she reached out to you, opened herself up to you. And you slammed the door shut right in her face. And she, she had gone back hiding behind that ridiculous mask she presented to the rest of the world. Pretending you were just friends, just colleagues. Pretending that she didn't need you, didn't need anyone. Pretending that you had never touched her life, you were in consequential, unimportant, worthless. And you wondered if that's how you made her feel by pushing her away when she kissed you.

Night after night you thought about her, dreamed about her, but found yourself paralysed when it came to making a move. The past three days working the case, you spent your every waking moment planning it. And when darkness fell and you were alone in the motel room together, you just couldn't do it.

You tried to tell yourself it was better that way. Just friends. Things were sort of ok now, she didn't avoid anymore, she wasn't uncomfortable working with you. What if you made your move and wrecked all that? Insidious doubts played over and over in your mind. And you wished that just one more time, she would make that move, reach out towards you. She'd always been the one to do it, and you willed her to try one more time._ This time I wont hold back Emily, this time I'll give you every thing i have, just reach out and touch me one more time. _You begged her silently with your eyes that night, right before she reached over and turned out the light.

She always turned out the light. She always waited. Silently and under the cover of darkness, before she came to you. As if It was some how permissible in the dark. If you couldn't see what you were doing, it was breaking no rules. Somehow it was less frightening to need another human being in the dark. She never spoke, ever conscious of the other team members sleeping in the next room. You didn't need words. Her touch told you everything you needed to know.

On that final night, taking a deep breath, you climbed out of bed after what felt like hours. The cold night air chilled you to the bone and you longed to creep back into bed under the safety of the covers. But you looked over to her, eyes closed, sleeping so peacefully in the moonlight. And you couldn't turn away from her. She looked so peaceful, something she hadn't looked in weeks. And you supposed she wasn't missing you in the slightest if she could sleep so soundly without you by her side. You kneel down beside her, afraid to touch her, to wake her, but needing to be close to her. You can see in the dim moonlight the scar over her forehead from the supposed car accident she had told you about. You reach your fingers to touch it, stopping just before you make contact with her. Long to run your fingers through her hair, stroke her face, whisper in her ear that you're sorry. But you don't. You can't. And you sit, watching her into the early hours of the morning.


	15. Chapter 15 Emily

Chapter 15

Emily

You lay in silence, knowing JJ was sleeping only metres from you. So close, and yet so far. It had been over a week since you had kissed her and she pulled away from you. It had been over a week since you found out your daughter was alive. No, you correct yourself, It had been longer than that. Almost three weeks since he told you the truth. But you hadn't believed him. It was a truth too awful to bear, to realise she had been alive all these years, out there lost and alone, while your own life went on without her. You hadn't even believed your sister when she told you the same thing. It was your mother, who never put it into words they way the others had, It was your mother who told you everything you needed to know with one look. And in that moment, your entire life came crashing down around you. How could your own mother have kept this from you?

You could hardly stand the pretence of life going on, of having to work, to eat sleep go on living, with your daughter so far away. But you still didn't know where she was. You needed your connections, and were thankful you still had your job. No one was yet suspicious of the things you'd done recently. And you waited, day after day, for the final shoe to drop. For someone to put it together, to look at you and realise you were guilty. You had imagined you'd be discovered and fired by now. You almost longed for it, for things to be over. But it couldn't happen until you had the information you needed to find your daughter.

You felt guilty once again for breaking the rules, accessing Garcia's computer, contacting old colleagues and having them search for information pretending it was for a BAU case. But you'd violated so many laws lately, one more surely wouldn't make a difference. Of course it occurred to you to go to Garcia, to tell her about your daughter, ask her to help. To ask any of them to help you. If anyone could find her, it would be your team. But you would be putting her own job in jeopardy. And you'd be alerting them at the same time to the things you'd done, laws you'd broken, cases you'd sabotaged. Who among them would help you once they found out you betrayed them, betrayed their trust and everything the BAU stood for? There was no one who could help you now. You were on your own. And suddenly you realised that without your team, you were not nearly as clever or resourceful as you thought you were. You know that time is running out, any day now you'll be discovered, and that will be it, your job gone. Your team gone. But your little girl needed you, that had to come first.

You longed to tell JJ everything as you slept so close to her in that motel room the last case you worked together. You looked over at her, thinking it might be the last time you would see her. You longed to feel her arms around you, longed to tell her everything, to completely unburden your soul, to cry and have her comfort you. To hear her tell you that everything would be ok, that she understood why you'd done the things you'd done. But you remind yourself again and again of the time you kissed her, she pulled away so hastily. So horrified by the prospect of being intimate with you. She completely and totally rejected you. And even if she had not done so, it wasn't fair to drag her into this mess. And so you lay silently. Looked over to her as she wished you good night. Reached slowly to turn the light off. In her eyes you saw so much love, so much desire. And you told yourself you were imagining things as you extinguished the light. And those eyes haunted you as you finally surrendered to sleep.

You woke suddenly some time later, a sharp pain piercing through your abdomen. A pain so intense it caused you to cry out. JJ is there beside you before you could even blink. She is telling you its ok, its just a dream. You sit up gasping for air. You had blocked out so many memories, facts and events, locked them away forever, but the feelings had never entirely vanished. And all at once you felt crushed by the weight of your mistakes, regrets, inconsolable grief. It wasn't actual facts, details, memories that came to mind. You'd worked hard to erase those years ago. It was an intangible feeing suffocating you, relentlessly and unbearably coursing over you. And you couldn't make it stop. This horror you'd pushed away for so many years was suddenly consuming you. Ripping right through you so that you felt as if you were being torn in two.

You bit your lip to stop yourself crying out again, all too aware of the others sleeping next door. You wanted to tell JJ you were fine, to go back to sleep. But it was beyond you to pretend in that moment. You just shook your head, wearily as she took your hand in her own, looking to you for answers.

She is asking you if you're sick, if you need a Dr. You find strength to speak, snapping at her to leave you the hell alone. You hadn't meant to sound so cruel to her, but it somehow makes you feel better, distracts you for a moment seeing the wounded look in her eyes. You muster some sort of strength, more than you thought you had, and tell her again that you're fine. You stand to your feet, amazed to find they have the strength to hold you upright, and pushing her aside, make your way to the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

It isn't long before she comes knocking at the door, calling your name. You wonder what it is that makes her come after you time and time again when you keep slamming doors in her face. You marvel at her resilience.

"Be quiet, you'll wake the others." You whisper harshly through the door.

"Yes, I will wake the others." She tells you adamantly "If you don't open this door right this minute."

You don't open the door. You're not sure you have the energy to reach up and turn the handle. And she makes no move to wake the others sleeping in the rooms next to yours. She doesn't want them here any more than you do, you realise. She doesn't want them to know or see how much you both feel for one another. Suddenly you don't think you care very much if she does wake them up. If the whole entire team comes barging in breaking the door down. What could anyone possibly do to hurt you now? What is there left to be afraid of? You've thrown away the best job you ever had, betrayed your team, your family, and it's only a matter of time before they find out. You betrayed your daughter, left her alone in the world without anyone to love her, never even lifting a finger to find her. And what if you do find her, what could you ever do to make it up to her? The horrifying truth makes you sick to your stomach, and you are violently ill.

While you're pondering the complete worthlessness of your life, JJ has managed to fiddle with the lock, and open the door. And suddenly you feel so childish cowering there in the corner hiding away from her. She crouches down beside you, reaching towards your hair. You're certain you look like crap, and its not how you'd like anyone to see you, lease of all JJ. But she seems unperturbed by your appearance, by your strange behaviour. And she sits, looking deep into your eyes.

"Please." She begs you.

"Please what?" You ask her, genuinely curious.

"Please talk to me Emily, Please don't shut me out like this."

You take hold of her hand as she caresses your face and squeeze it gently. How badly you wanted to tell her everything. But you are powerless to speak, and again all you can do is shake your head, trying hard to prevent those tears that are threatening to fall.

She nods gently in reply, lets go of your hand, and stands to leave. You almost call out for her to stay. Forgetting for a moment that you were the one who told her to leave you the hell alone. And it's suddenly so cold without her that you're shaking as you sit there alone on the bathroom floor. You feel like you're falling, like you're drowning, and you want to reach out to your lifeline, to JJ. But you stop yourself. You'd only drown her right alongside you, and she deserves so much better than that.

You wonder about your daughter, where is she, is she cold and alone and wondering where her mother is? And it makes you feel better somehow, to feel so alone and so miserable. It's what you deserve.

You close your eyes, longing to die right there and then. You tell yourself you have to keep living, to find your daughter, to make sure she is ok, to make things up to her. But you're so tired. And you have nothing to offer her. You'll probably end up in jail when the FBI discovers the things you'd done. Your mothers words echo in your head "Really Emily, What kind of a mother would you have been?" And you wonder if your daughter is in a better place, better off without you in her life.

When you open your eyes, JJ is standing before you again. You can't help but smile when you see her there, see that she has come back for you even though you gave her every reason to run. You try to tell yourself not to smile, not to let her see how much you want her, need her. It only makes you look foolish and vulnerable; it only gives her power to hurt you. But you can't help it the way your eyes light up when you look up and see her there.

She's brought a blanket and she sits beside you, wrapping you tightly and pulling you close. As you lay your head against her, the sickening wave of nausea subsides, and the sharp stabbing pain diminishes. She says nothing. You don't blame her for that, every word she speaks you twist against her lately. She just sits holding you close. And you close your eyes and wish that morning would never come.


	16. Chapter 16Francesca

**Chapter 16**

**Francesca **

After closing the door on the two FBI agents, you wondered if you had done the right thing by telling them Emily had gone to Australia. You wondered if you had said too much? You had told them little else. You hadn't answered their following questions, where exactly, why exactly, how you knew this, how you knew Emily.

You felt intimidated as they put you on the spot, as if you were guilty of something when you knew you were not. You read about what these people do, look deep inside minds of other people, and bring to light things we all believe hidden so well in darkness.

You wondered what they had seen when they looked into your mind. If they saw regret, guilt, years of misplaced loyalty, misplaced anger. If they saw life of mistakes, too many to ever even count let alone make right. If they saw a desperate mother , willing sell her own integrity to save her son, wiling to drag her own sister down with her, If they saw things you had done, or the things you should have done and did not? You wondered what they saw when they looked at Emily? You wanted to ask, But you were afraid.

"This is Nicholas." You had introduced your son

"I know. " One of them replied, and you remembered back to the day at Emily's office, when Nicholas had run away to see Emily. You wondered what else these people knew about you. Suddenly it seemed you should be the one asking the questions. They gave the impression they knew so much about you, and yet it was all a game, meant to intimidate you into speaking. It's how these people worked. After all hadn't they come to your door asking questions about who you were and where Emily was? You were the one with the answers, with the power. And you tried to stand firm, not to let them see they had rattled you.

It occurred to you eventually that these people were here for trouble. The things Emily had done for your son incriminated you both. And no matter what things stood between you and your sister, you weren't about to sell her out for risking her career to save your son. It was best to say no more. So you pushed aside your initial gut feeling that you could trust these people, that they cared about Emily and wanted to help her. You told them nothing else.

You wondered if they had heard in your shaky voice, the way your son's name caught on your tongue as you introduced him moments ago. Each time you spoke that name aloud you wished you had named your boy something else. Anything else. Anything other than naming him after your brother, Nick. You wondered how you could ever explain to the boy that his name sake, his uncle, had turned into a monster. Strangely enough your son seemed to understand so many things better than you did. You had been blind to your brother's faults, completely.

Nicholas had seen things, become wary. Even at age of six. It was odd, because he had always adored his uncle. And your first thought was that Emily was poisoning his mind. You didn't think it like her. But it was but more likely and easier to believe than the things Emily had claimed about your brother. In time her allegations became disturbing that you feared for her sanity. She disturbed you so that you had forbidden her from seeing your son at all.

Looking back, you wondered how things had escalated to that point. Growing up, the three of you had been thick as thieves. Emily, Nick and you. You remembered the first summer your father had bought Emily home. You'd been young, maybe 5. You hadn't really understood that your father had another daughter out there. That your father was her father, but your mother not her mother. It was strange having this instant big sister who spent summers with you, and then left again as if she had never been real in the first place. You remember thinking to yourself that your mother must resent this girl, this intruder into your family. And yet if anything it was the opposite. You became jealous of this perfect girl your mother adored and fussed over. Jealous of the life she lead, the travelling, the clothes, the way she spoke so eloquently. You felt as if you could never live up in your fathers eyes to this perfect daughter, his first born daughter.

It was many years later Emily told you she felt that exact same way about you, jealous of the way your father looked at you, of the fact that you and Nick had a real full time family. Nick and Emily had always been rivals, but in a friendly way. They seemed to thrive on the competition. There wasn't anything sinister to it, nothing that you'd seen back then. But looking back now you realise that Nick always resented the way Emily came into his life, taking his place as eldest. But it was natural for siblings to compete, to feel jealous. And if anyone had asked, you would have told them that the three of you were close. You would have told them that you trusted your brother and sister with your life.

As soon as you found out Nicholas was sick, that he needed a bone marrow transplant, you knew you would have to approach both of your own siblings. It wasn't ideal, the best match would come from one of the child's own siblings, or cousins. And he had neither. You went to your brother Nick first. Because he was your full sibling, so you told yourself, the most likely match. Because you felt you could look him in the eye. All going well you wouldn't have to approach your half sister at all.

When the results came back you were devastated that Nick wasn't a compatible match. But you still had hope. You still had Emily. And you weren't beyond going to her begging for help even after the way things had ended. But fear seized your heart as you realised Emily was it, your last chance. And if she wasn't a match either, your son would die.

Nick had seen your face fall, felt your fear, devastation. '_Don't worry._' He told you '_There is one more person out there.'_

'_Who?_' you had asked. Confusion and hope mingling in your mind. Did your brother have a child out there somewhere that you didn't know about?

He held up his hand to silence you. He looked you in the eyes. And you saw something in that moment. A glimmer of the thing that Emily had always told you about. A glimpse of pure and utter darkness. The thing you had always been blinded to.

"If you want me to help you, I need something in return." Nick told you calmly.

"This is my son's life! Your nephew!" You had screamed at him. Not able to believe he would withhold information from you that could save Nicholas.

"Don't get hysterical, Frankie." He warned you.

You stood in disbelief at this person standing before you, this person you grew up with and loved and thought you knew. Standing before you in that moment was a stranger. A cold remorseless stranger. You took a breath , remembering your son needed your help. "Tell me what you want Nick, name it and it's yours. I'll do anything." You promised him, wondering what you could possibly have that would be of any value to him.

He laughed then. You were standing there, crying, begging for help from your brother to save your sons life, and he stood there laughing at you. "No Frankie. Not from you. I need something from Emily."

You had little time to wonder how your brother had turned into such a monster, all your time and energy was focused on caring for Nicholas. You contacted Emily. Asking her first of all to be tested, hoping that would be the end of it and you wouldn't have to drag her in to anything else. It had been almost four years since you cut off contact with her. And although she tried, she couldn't hide her surprise to see you standing on her doorstep.

She agreed, as you knew she would, to be tested. And it made you realise for the first time how things had been twisted in your mind all these years. That she wasn't the monster your brother painted her to be. That she wasn't the one laughing in your face, playing games with a little boys life. That after everything you did to her, she turned around and helped you willingly. Without question, without hesitation, without demanding anything in return. She hadn't even asked you if she could see Nicholas, but you could see it in her eyes that she wanted to.

She was surprised to see you again, after the results came back and she wasn't a match for Nicholas. And finally you told her about your encounter with Nick. You begged her to go and see him, to give him anything he asked if there was a chance there was someone out there who could save your son.

"He might be lying." She warned you.

You knew that, but you couldn't take the chance. You were prepared to beg and plead with her, but you didn't have to.

"Alright." She agreed. And you stood there, uncertain what to do or say. "Is that all?" She asked, motioning to the door for you to leave. You wanted to hug her, to thank her, to tell her you were sorry for the things that happened. You wanted to ask her so many things about the past, wanted to ask it now because it was only now you would have believed the things she told you about your brother. But you couldn't find the words.

"Nicholas would love to see you again." You managed to say as you were leaving.

"I don't think that would be a good idea." She answered quickly. You knew her better than that though, saw that look in her eyes, how much she missed the little boy. But, frightened of putting her offside when she had just agreed to help you, you left without further protest.

And once again you wondered what exactly happened to your family. What was the truth behind those things that happened so long ago?

It wasn't until after Nick was arrested that you discovered it was a statement from Emily that had put him away. An eyewitness account of your fathers murder. There was other evidence, mostly circumstantial evidence, nothing that would stand up in court. Without Emily's testimony there essentially was no case. It always sat uneasy with you that she could accuse your brother, her own half brother, of something so heinous. It would have been unbelievable at the best of times. But the thing that really made your blood run cold was the fact you knew she was lying. Knew it because Nick had been with you that night. There was no way, not the slightest possibility, that her story could be true. And yet she looked you straight in the eye and told you it was so. And it was your word against hers. And her word counted for more.

The fact that she lied, incriminating her own brother, was disturbing enough. But it didn't stop there. It was Nick who first put the seed of doubt in your head when you asked him why Emily would have done such a thing. '_Why do you think she lied Frankie ? Because she is covering for herself. She is the guilty one, not me.'_

That was the moment you realised you didn't know your sister at all. She wasn't even your real sister. Just an impostor, someone who happened to share your fathers DNA thanks to a brief ill fated affair he had many years before. It was easy to turn on Emily, to tell yourself she was crazy. It was so much easier than facing the truth about your brother.

So you lost your father that year to death, your brother to jail, and your sister to the realms of insanity. But you still had your son. And you would have done anything, even go crawling back to Emily after the way you exiled her from your life. You realise now that there were things going on you hadn't been aware of. Realise you may have been wrong in your judgements. But it just feels like it's too late. There is no hope of reconciliation for you and Emily. Your guilt and shame held you back from ever trying to contact her even after you realised you never really knew your brother at all. But it wasn't just shame that held you back. You're still angry at her. Because she could have made you see the truth, if she had really tried. She let you go on believing and living a lie, and because of that she will never be truly exonerated in your mind, because you know that she could have tried harder to make you believe. Even now all these years later, when you suddenly see so much, suddenly believe there were reasons, you still don't understand why she did it. Or why she couldn't have come to you and told you the truth.

She never gave you a satisfactory answer as to why she had lied about your fathers death. It infuriated you beyond belief. She answered with vague assurances that she had done the right thing, asked you to trust her. How could you trust her when she had lied? When she had completely shattered your family? You asked her that exact question, _how can I trust you?_ And she had answered "_Because I'm your sister_."

And you snapped in that moment, telling her that she was never your sister, that your father never loved her as much as he loved you and Nick. That she was never really part of your family. You'd stopped thinking of her as your sister months ago. But it was that moment you saw in her eyes that she disowned you.

Although you missed her, you consoled yourself with the fact that you never really knew her. That she was a bitter, manipulative witch just like her mother. That she always felt she was too good for you, for your family. That she wasn't your full sister, and therefore not your real sister. So it was no great loss to your life, so you tried to tell yourself. You hadn't heard from her again since that day. No doubt she had gone back to her mothers side, calling herself a fatherless child, an only child, the only child of Ambassador Prentiss. And you tried to tell yourself that you hadn't thought about her since.

And now these FBI agents stand in your doorway, mumbling about going to Australia. And you know it should have been you. That you should have gone with Emily, because she hasn't the first idea what she is walking into. You considered it, but Nicholas was still recovering, he needed you. And besides, Emily would never have tolerated your company. But you feel it with every part of you, you should be there by her side. Because that little girl is your niece, Because Emily is your sister, Because Emily saved your child's life. And because you looked back and wonder how you could have missed so many things. How could you not have known that your brother was a monster, how could you not have known that your niece was alive out there somewhere? And you ask yourself over and over, if there is something you could have done to prevent this.

None of this can you tell to the FBI agents standing looking to you for answers. When they ask you why Emily is in Australia, you shrug and answer "Ask her." echoing your son's words from your earlier conversation.

They turn eventually to leave, but one of them turns back just as she reaches the door.

"If you talk to Emily, Ask her, please, to call me." She hands you her card as the other one drags her away.

You shrug again. When was the last time Emily had done something you asked of her? It's not like you were even on speaking terms right now. Yet you took the card that the blonde offered you, and tucked it safely into your pocket as you closed the door.


	17. Chapter 17 Morgan

Chapter 17

Morgan

You couldn't claim to know or understand everything that had happened involving the abrupt departure of Agent Prentiss from the BAU, but the little you knew was enough to convince you to let it go. Enough to convince you that Emily Prentiss had betrayed you all, and she wasn't worth your time or concern. She wasn't worth this complete destruction of anything resembling a team.

It took longer than it should have for you to put the pieces together, the pieces of cases jeopardised and sabotaged right in front of your own eyes. Yet your suspicions had never once turned towards one of your own team. But once you finally allowed yourself to look, to really see, suddenly it all fell into place.

Wearily you watched from your car as JJ and Garcia looked questioningly to one another, before approaching a house, knocking tentatively on the door. You knew this visit wasn't related to a case, not any BAU case that you knew about, and so you reached the logical conclusion that it was something to do with Prentiss.

You almost reach for your phone, because it's Garcia you would call when you want information about who lived at this address. So instead, you sit tight waiting, watching. You're not even sure why you're here. To protect them? To stop them? Because you're curious yourself? Possibly some combination of all three.

Over and over in your mind you turn recent events. One case sticks in your mind. Not just because it is an unsolved case- and you hate unsolved cases. But because so many things went wrong. Computer errors, evidence missing or tampered with. Nothing in and of itself that was inherently suspicious. But the cumulative effect of each and every event was devastating. And the only conclusion you could reach was that someone had deliberately sabotaged the case. From the inside.

And yet even now as you look back, trying hard to see it- to see that Prentiss had been behind it all- and it makes no sense to you. While it is the only answer, it's still somehow so completely unbelievable. Because you think back to the day, the day you came so close to apprehending that particular un sub, the day he got away. Once you received the call with the location, You and Prentiss raced to your car to find all four tyres slashed. And at that point it never occurred to you to suspect her involvement. Because you sat there with her, sharing bitter disappointment, intense frustration, righteous anger. Her anger, frustration, powerlessness was palpable. You looked her in the eyes that day, saw reflected your own feelings of injustice. You saw many things in her eyes that day, but never guilt. How could you have sat beside her that very day and not known she had been behind it? For a man who calls himself a profiler, that was downright embarrassing.

While she kept herself remarkably and alarmingly composed that day, things began to disintegrate from that point on. You began to realise Prentiss was keeping something from you, It confused you more than anything. And one day you followed her after work. Told yourself it was out of concern for the strange way she had been behaving. You weren't proud of it at the time, sneaking around following her like that. But you'd done it.

She was vague when you confronted her at the prison, asking what she was doing there. She was uncharacteristically snippy with you, retorting bitterly that it was none of your damn business. Her reaction only heightened your suspicions. And when you discovered who she had visited, you confronted her again.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Research. For a case." She answered without wavering.

"Bullshit." You told her.

"It's classified, I cant talk about it, sorry." She added.

You shook your head in disbelief. Just who did she think she was dealing with that she could get away with that? You saw through her lies. Instantly. You wondered if it had always been this easy to see, it's just that no one bothered looking.

Looking back you wondered if she had wanted to be caught that day. She made little, if any, attempt to conceal things from you, she hadn't noticed you following her. Why would she be acting so suspicious in that moment, when for months had so carefully concealed her tracks, causing not one of you one moment of suspicion? She had wanted to you to follow her, you realise now, wanted you to catch her, wanted you to put it all together. Why? You couldn't shake the feeling that she wanted you to save her. Was begging for you to pull her out of something she had fallen far too deeply into. And you had failed her. But it was damn near impossible to save someone fighting so hard against you.

You didn't doubt she had her reasons for whatever she was involved in. It wasn't your place to judge her motivation. But in your eyes, there was no justification for lying to the team like that. For betraying each and every one of you. There was no conceivable reason that she could not have come to you and confided in you. That was the thing you found so difficult to forgive. And regardless of whether you personally could find forgiveness or understanding for Emily, there had come the orders from above. Leading you to believe that Emily had been in more trouble than even you realised. Truth be told, you didn't really want to know. And it angered you to see JJ pulling Garcia into this web, to see Emily even though she is gone, pulling them both into the middle of whatever this mess is. And yet your attempts to stop it only served to turn JJ and Garcia both against you.

It's why you hadn't been expecting the phone call that afternoon from Garcia. You weren't on speaking terms, and only when you heard her voice did you realise how much you missed her.

"Please, I need your help." She pleaded with you.

You were wary at first. That this was something to do with finding Prentiss "I already told you, I'm not getting involved…"

"No." She cut you off. "It's JJ. She is going to do something stupid and I don't know how to stop her."

You listened as Garcia told you JJ's plans to travel to Australia in this crazy quest to find Emily. You agreed it was insane to throw away her job her savings to travel halfway across the world, and for what? There was no indication Emily needed or wanted a single thing from JJ. Yet, You understood her compulsion. You wondered, if Prentiss contacted you right now, if she levelled with you, told you everything, asked you for help, there isn't much you wouldn't give to her. You'd be the first to go running if she asked you to. But this was truly crazy. Garcia must think so too, or she wouldn't be consorting with the enemy- ie you.

"What do you want me to do about it?" You ask, genuinely curious.

"Talk to her." Garcia suggests.

"Baby, if you can't talk her out of it, no one can."

"I was afraid of that." She concedes. "Then we need to do something more drastic."

You know she is right, words aren't going to cut it. And part of you wants to walk away, wash your hands of the whole Prentiss mess for good, let JJ throw her life away, you weren't her keeper. But Garcia is begging you, and you just can't say no, the same way you knew that if Prentiss contacted you and asked for help you wouldn't be able to turn her down either. And so, reluctantly, you listened to Garcia's plans.

That's how you ended up waiting in the dark outside JJ's place in the middle of the night. You want to believe that JJ would have changed her mind, but just after midnight she leaves her home, suitcase packed, and you realise she is actually going to do it. Leave everything behind just like that.

You startled her as you approached her, you hadn't meant to. She jumped in fright before realising it was you and pushed past you to put her bags in her car.

"I can't let you do this." You tell her, hesitantly. This was a bad idea, and you're not sure you can go through with it.

She turns to you and she laughs. "You can't let me?" She mocks you.

And you stop for a moment, thinking of Prentiss. Thinking to yourself that she had been somehow reaching out for you to save her. Thinking that you failed and hating both her and yourself for that. And here is JJ. And you tell yourself she is reaching out too, that she wants someone to stop her doing this crazy thing. Then she can tell herself she did everything she could for Prentiss and that it wasn't her fault you got in the way. You think about the team, and all you want is harmony back, all you want is everyone safe. Emily is out of your reach, but JJ stands right before you. So close you are almost touching her without even trying. And you know you have to do it.

She waits a moment for you to answer, and when you don't, she shakes her head and turns from you. And you seize that opportunity to grab her, catching her by surprise so that she has no chance to fight back, and you force her into the back of your car and drive off into the night.


	18. Chapter 18 Emily

A/N I know it's been a long long time, and that this story was messy and confusing even to begin with, but for what it's worth- the continuation to the story. (I am never very good at ending things, but I really will try to get this one to the end). It's just my take on the characters, all written in fun, no offence to anyone or their favourite characters. Hope you enjoy :)

For Kassandra_Luem, Frenhu, and Lynders11, for all the amazing encouragement and support.

_**Chapter 18 **_

_**Emily**_

_Present Day_

_Australia_

You enter the cool underground church and feel the instant drop in temperature as you descend the stone steps. Your eyes are drawn to the rich coloured carvings in the rock face. It feels like another world. Peaceful, cool, primitive. Such a stark contrast to the scorching unforgiving sun above the surface. You could see why many of the towns inhabitants chose to live in underground dwellings to gain respite from the heat. You wonder if this is where your daughter lives, in some sort of cool underground sanctuary, in this god forsaken desert town in the middle of nowhere?

Your eyes are instinctively drawn to the alter, keeping your back turned to the only entry and exit to the cave-like building. Everything in you is telling you that it isn't unsafe, to stand there like that, your back turned. To close your eyes. To wait, unprepared, unarmed. But strange peace descends over you. You light a candle for your daughter. The glow from the flames dances on the rock walls. You close your eyes, but that soft orange glow of the flickering flames pierces it's way through the darkness.

You found it difficult to remember your daughter. You had tried so hard not to think about her. Ever. It hurt to much. There was nothing you could do to make it stop hurting, except forget. Lock it away inside a deep dark compartment and vow to never open it again. And that's how you had survived.

The details faded easily over time. Piece by piece, memories drifted from your grasp. So much so that now, when you were actually trying to remember, you could not.

It was your mother who told you the baby was still born. The Ambassador announced it so matter-of-factly, as if it wasn't something that should affect you in the slightest. She looked you straight in the eye and lied to you. She looked you straight in the eye and shattered your heart into pieces. Did you, as a daughter, mean that little to her, as a mother, that she found it possible to lie so callously about such a thing? You ask yourself, if someone had come along and told her that her daughter was dead, would she have even flinched?

At first you had not believed her. You knew your daughter was alive, because you heard the sound of her crying. That sound echoed inside your mind each and every day of your life. You had no vivid memories of your child. You had never held her, never touched her, never sang to her or rocked her to sleep in your arms. The night she was born, you remember only darkness, hushed whispering voices echoing, sharp searing pain tearing your body in two. And then the piercing, beautiful, cries of a new born child. It was so real. That sound. So haunting and magical and so very real.

And still, you had let your mother convince you, somehow. She had been so insistent. No one argues with the ambassador. She said it so honestly, so openly, "Your daughter is dead." You had no cause do doubt her based on those words alone. You let her convince you that you had been hallucinating. That you were dreaming. That you were crazy. That pain killing drugs had warped your mind. You had imagined that cry. You had dreamed it. You had longed to hear it so badly, but it was never real.

And so your confidence in your own memories, in your own instinct, faded. The drugs kept you in a state of confusion, and your mothers constant assurances that you were crazy started to sink it. You started to believe her, to doubt yourself. Your mother always had that ability to make you doubt yourself. And while, in the the beginning, you were certain that you had heart that baby crying, certain there had been a terrible mistake, a mix up- Never once did it occur to you that your mother had lied to you. Never. You hated yourself now, for not questioning her. For blindly accepting what she had told you and not fighting harder to believe in your daughter.

As you look back to that time in your life, you can't fathom just what you had even been doing staying with your mother at that time in your life. You had run back to her, pathetically, alone and pregnant. Out of some primitive need for a mother, for something to take care of you, someone to help you make sense out of everything that had happened. Someone who would understand you, and not judge you. You never found the thing you were looking for in her. You never really expected to.

"_You weren't going to keep her anyway, Emily."_ Were your mothers comforting words at the loss of your child. _"Besides, you're young, You can have another child if you insist. Although it's not something I'd recommend. Maybe you'd like to get married first this time, although I wouldn't recommend that either._" On and on she went, with her practical, heartless advice. All you wanted was for her to hold you.

You had always believed that it was your own fault that your daughter had died. You must have done something terribly wrong to cost that baby girl her life. The pregnancy hadn't been planned, but the baby had been wanted, and loved. You wanted to give that baby everything that you never had as a child. Love, security, self esteem, value, worth. But perhaps your mother was right.

"_It's meant to be."_ It what your mother told you. "_Honestly, Emily, what kind of a mother could you have been? What kind life could you give that girl? It's for the best, put it behind you._"

Her words were thoughtless, harsh and cruel. As always. Yet you found it hard to resent her for them, fearing deep down they were true. And so you had picked up your life, and so you had moved on. Never looking back.

It was your sister, Francesca, who saved you from drowning in the darkness of depression and guilt following the loss of your child.. It was she who flew across the world to come and see you, who took you home to stay with her family. Despite the fact you had long since walked out on her. Despite the fact you did your best to push her away. It was she who held you while you cried, who told you it wasn't your fault. Who wouldn't let you give up. It was she who reminded you that there was something to live for. That your daughter wouldn't want to see you like this.

Her little boy, Nicholas, was almost eighteen months old at the time. It hurt you to look at him, so alive and healthy, while your own child was cold and dead. He was a beautiful boy, and you loved him, cherished him. But you asked yourself, in the stillness of the night, if you would swap him to have your own daughter back. If you would sacrifice his life if it meant you could hold your precious baby in your arms and know she was safe. You tried to tell yourself that such things weren't in your power, and that if the tables were turned Francesca would be wishing the same thing, for her own child to be alive. You wondered if she held her son close at night, a little bit closer than usual, and thanked God that her own child had been spared. The guilt of such thoughts suffocated you. And you could barely stand to look at the boy.

Until one day, after god only knows how many weeks you had barely managed to leave your room, Frankie had burst in early one morning, just after dawn. You barely opened your eyes, mumbling for her to go away and leave you alone. Then you felt the soft small hand on your face, and opened your eyes to find your nephew staring back at you. Frankie had placed him on the bed beside you and was opening the curtains, which hadn't been opened for weeks. The sunlight made you flinch. "I have to go to work, emergency, can't find a babysitter. I need you to watch Nicholas for a few hours."

She ignored your protests, and was gone in a flash. How you hated your sister in that moment. You thought her selfish and cruel. You wanted to tell her that you had no interest in babysitting her child, in being reminded that her child was alive and your own child was gone. Only later did you see that she was trying to reach you. That she was trying to help you heal. That she was lost for words, that she knew somehow that her precious little boy would be able to reach you in a way that she could not.

You sat up in bed, staring down at the little boy. You pulled him instinctively into your lap. It seemed that he didn't quite fit in your arms. Not the way you had always dreamed that your baby girl would have fit. Frustration at your sister filled your thoughts, followed immediately by panic. You were barely capable of looking after yourself these days, let alone a helpless child. And wasn't she afraid to leave him with you? After all what kind of a mother had you been to your own child? You had obviously done something terribly wrong. If only you had taken better care of yourself when you were pregnant then perhaps your baby would still be alive. You didn't know the first thing about babies. She couldn't just take off and leave you like that.

Nicholas sat so still, so complacent, in your arms. Finally you looked down into his eyes. He was staring up at you, smiling. So innocently, sweetly, so much trust and love in those baby blue eyes. He didn't cry as his mother walked out the door. He was just happily waiting, expectantly, for you to get your act together, to wash him and dress him and feed him and play with him. And for the first time in months, you managed to drag yourself out of bed.

Looking back, you realised just how much you had lost over the years. You daughter, your father, your brother, your sister and nephew. The only person you had left was your mother- the very same mother who lied to you about your own daughters death. And for the first time you stop to ask yourself if all this had been worth it? You believed you were doing the right thing, ensuring that your half brother was locked behind bars. You honestly believed it was the only way to protect the people you loved, to protect other innocent people, to protect yourself. But you look over the shattered remnants of your family, and wonder if you made a terrible terrible mistake?

The first time you had visited your brother in jail, you'd been prepared to agree to anything. You jumped through hoops, making him promises, trying to bribe him into being tested as a bone marrow donor for Nicholas. The worst thing wasn't the things he asked of you, compromising your integrity. The very worst thing was the way he looked into your eyes. Condemning you. As if you were the villain, and he the victim. That was honestly the way he saw it. The way they all saw it. And you let him get under your skin. You let yourself start to wonder if you had been so caught up in your own fear, in your own hatred, in your own righteousness, that you had made the wrong choice. He left you no choice. On and on the game went, with you playing right into his hands, promising him the world in exchange for scraps of information about your daughter. You had given him power, set him free. Everything he did from that point onward was your direct responsibility. But he left you no other option. You started to wonder just how on earth you had fucked things up so completely, and if there was any way back from this point.

As you are pondering these thoughts, you hear the footsteps echoing behind you in the cool dark church. Before you even turn around you recognise the distantly familiar voice calling your name. "Emily? Is it really you?"


	19. Chapter 19 Emily, Hotch, Garcia

So...It's been a long between updates, bad bad me. This is actually my favourite story i've written, of any fandom. It's not the best written, nor the best plot, nor the best anything. It's certainly not the most popular or the most frequently updated. I just like it. I started this during my crazy obsession with second person narrative. I like it at the start, but it becomes clumsy towards the end. I'm considering changing it all to third person, but for now I continue the way I began. The entire fic is not beta'd. Anyone crazy enough who wants to beta feel free to send me a msg, it's all yours :)

Recent episodes of CM inspired me to finish this fic off. So, that's what I'm doing :) I want to say a huge thanks to all the people along the way who have supported me. This is one of the least popular fics, but everyone who has commented means so much more to me than another ten comments on a more popular fic. Thank you to everyone who has taken time to read and comment. Especially to kassandra_luem- whom I wrote this fic for, who introduced me to Emily & JJ, and helped me find my words when I thought I would never write again. Also to Frenhu, lostnfoundcause, lynders11, to name only some of the people who have inspired and encouraged me along the way. I am totally nervous as I continue this story, even though it's always been the story I wrote because I loved it and not to please other people. But I still hope you enjoy it :) Love all you guys...On with the show...I've never managed to find an ending for anything i've written, And I really hope this fic might be the one exception...xoxo Carly.

_**Chapter 19.**_

_**Emily **_

The voice, _his voice_, catches you off guard. The eerie familiarity. As if it had been only yesterday. And not seven long years.

Something strikes you immediately as different, though. But he was like that. Unpredictable. Impossible to read. You'd seen him on many undercover assignments. Shifting effortlessly into different personas. From frightening, to vulnerable, to trustworthy. You had been fool enough, as his partner, to believe you had known the _real_ him. It had taken you an inordinate amount of time to realise the face he showed to you, allowed you to see, was no different than those faces he showed to the rest of the world. Charming, irresistible, believable...and false.

He steps towards you, footsteps echoing on the stone floor of the underground church.

His face displays shock, but his words contradict that sentiment. "I always knew, one day..." He uttered softly.

His voice drifts off in that irritating way it always had, without finishing the sentence. Some things never change.

You resent the assumption on his part that the unspoken void is in any way sufficient. But you can't speak. You cant move. You're not sure why.

You're not afraid

Not of him.

Not of anything, any more.

But you are stuck. Mesmerised. Maybe it's his eyes. Maybe it's just the heat.

He sits resignedly in a pew, and motions for you to join him. And, God help you, you do it. You sit in the row behind him, forcing him to turn to face you. He rests his arm casually on the back of the pew. You like it like this, a barrier between you. You like that he keeps his distance. That he isn't quite close enough to touch you. Not that he had even tried to touch you since...everything that happened.

"Been a long time, Em." He says it casually. There is a hint of an Australian accent tingeing his voice. It causes you to wonder if he is faking it, the accent. Or has he really been here that long he isn't even aware that his voice has changed.

You resent instantly the familiar use of your nick name. It causes something to snap inside your head.

"I didn't come here for small talk." You are pleased with the way those words come out of your mouth. Cool, in control, confident. That's the person you wanted to be.

"I know why you're here." He answers, unmistakable anger in his tone. "I am here to tell you, you have another thing coming if you think you can just waltz in here after 7 years."

You don't answer him. You don't know how to. It had been seven years. Seven long years. You don't know what you were really expecting.

"I just need to see her." That's the only thing you know, the only thing you've been holding on to.

"You never wanted me, never wanted her, never wanted any reminder..."He accuses you.

You can't deny that. It's true, all horrifyingly true. The repulsion you felt realising you were pregnant with his child.

"I just need to see her." You repeat it, softer this time. Unable to look him in the eye.

"Why?" He asks, challenging you.

You can't answer that, either. What did you really think you had to offer her? What kind of life? What kind of family? You had abandoned her as a baby. Didn't even have a job any more.

"I don't know what she looks like. I don't even know her name." You tell him, fighting back tears.

"Never bothered you before." He answers coldly.

The injustice of that accusation burns inside you. You would have moved heaven and earth to be with your daughter if you'd known she was alive. To love her, protect her. You hear your own mother's voice in your head. '_You knew, Emily. Deep down you knew your daughter was alive. How could you not know?' _

You shake your head violently, shaking off the Ambassador's accusations. You won't let her steal your daughter from you a second time.

"I need to know that she is ok." You tell him sincerely.

"She is ok." He assures you. "Better than ok. She has a good life."

"Here?" You can't help but ask sceptically. Here, in this dead town in the middle of nowhere? What kind of life, what kind of opportunities could she possible have _here_?

"Careful Em, you're starting to sound like your mother." He warns you.

That infuriates you. Infuriates you all the more so when you realise he is right.

"I don't owe you a thing, least of all an explanation." He says finally. "But let me assure you, she is happy here. She has a family, a father, a step mother, a little brother. She goes to school, she has friends, she has a good life here, and she wants for nothing. Least of all you."

"You say that to me like you expect me to just walk away?" You utter in disbelief.

"Like you did seven years ago?" Comes the sarcastic reply. "Like you abandoned your newborn daughter as if she were trash?"

_**Hotch**_

It's late when you finally leave the office. The building is silent, the others have long gone. As you pull the door to your office closed, briefcase in your hand, you get the eerie feeling someone is watching you. When you look up, you see her. Just standing there.

She is nervous, jumping from one foot to the other. Your gaze intimidates her, a reaction you had become used to. Something, instinct, tells you this is someone looking for help, not a threat. So you soften your voice, as soft as it goes, and ask "Can I help you?"

"I was looking for uh, this lady..." She fumbles in her pocket for a business card. "Jennifer Jareau."

"Our communications liaison not in right now, can I help you with something?"

"No. I don't think so." She answers, although she doesn't sound sure. And she makes no move to leave.

"How did you get in here? This is a secure area."

She laughs "You could do with an upgrade to your security then." She responds.

A frown covers your face as you make a mental note to investigate security of the building.

"I'm not causing any trouble, I just wanted to speak to Ms Jareau." She states.

"Can I take a message?"

"No, I don't think so."

"You didn't tell me your name." You probe.

"No I didn't."

She eyes the name plate on your door. "So, Agent Hotchner, you're like the boss around here or something?" She asks. She is nervous, but there is an underlying confidence. Something that makes her think she can sneak into the building and engage you in conversation in the middle of the night.

"Something like that." You answer, a little intrigued. She strikes you as someone with little self control, and something tells you to keep digging, she will give herself away.

Her eyes scan the room.

"Looking for something?" You ask.

"Aren't we all looking for something? It's just that sometimes you don't find it. Or sometimes you find it, but it doesn't make any sense. And sometimes, it just doesn't want to be found."

You nod, silently encouraging her to continue.

"I don't think it's here. What I'm looking for." She states flatly.

"And that is?"

"I don't really know." She answers, shaking her head. "Nice to meet you, Agent Hotchner."

Absent-mindedly she shakes your hand when you offer it to her. "Nice to meet you too, Miss...?" You enquire with a slight raise of the eyebrow.

"Doctor." She clarifies reflexively.

That catches you a little off guard. She strikes you as scattered, untidy, disorganised in every aspect of her life. But you remind yourself that doesn't preclude her from being an intelligent person.

"I apologise, Dr...?"

"St James." She calls out over her shoulder, after she has turned and is walking away.

Instantly the name strikes a chord of recognition in your heart.

_**Garcia**_

You're busy nervously pacing back and forth in your house when you hear the car pull up. You clamour to the window peering out as you catch sight of Morgan's car. It's dark, but you can make out the shape of Morgan dragging JJ inside, literally dragging her! And you hear the muffled protests as he clamps his hand across her mouth.

"What the hell are you doing?" You demand of him as he pushed JJ inside and bolts the door.

"You wanted me to stop her, I stopped her." He answers, he is defensive, frustrated, as he slips the key into his pocket.

JJ takes a tentative step towards him, spitting right in his face. And all of a sudden your team, your family, is falling to pieces right before your eyes.

You place an arm around JJ's shoulder pulling her back. "Not like this!" You insist to Morgan.

"Fine." Morgan answers, and reaches into his pocket for the key to unlock the door. He pauses, waiting for a response from you.

"Don't." You whisper quietly to him.

JJ shrugs your hand off her shoulder and turns, glaring at you. If looks could kill, you would be dead on the spot.

Then JJ, the insane one, the one who had lost the plot, JJ takes a deep breath, and pulls herself together.

"This is crazy." She says calmly.

"I'll tell you what's crazy." Morgan answers her. "Flying halfway across the world to find someone who doesn't want to be found. That's pretty damn crazy."

JJ doesn't waste her breath defending her choice. Morgan would never see it her way.

"And you've never done anything crazy, Derek?" She asks simply. "Here's something I learned- You can't stop someone from doing something crazy. You can't stop them screwing up their entire life, throwing away their career, walking out on people who love them. You can't stop someone leaving just because you don't want them to."

The lonely bitterness in JJ's voice brings a tear to your eye.

"JJ." You move towards her, she flinches away.

"I have to do this. You can't stop me." She insists with so much clarity in her voice it's impossible to tell yourself she is crazy or that she doesn't know what she is doing.

"JJ, we care about you. " You plead, all the same things you'd said to her a million times.

"I know. I care about you too. You guys, all of you, are my family."

"And you just gonna throw it all away? For her?" Morgan interrupts.

JJ only shrugs. "You'd do the same." She tells you, and you know it's true.

You pull her into a tight embrace, conceding defeat.

Morgan says nothing, but you feel his eyes drilling into the back of your head. You dragged him into this, and now you turn around and let it all go? But you can't think about him right now. You think only about JJ, how much it tears you up to say goodbye to her too.

"I'll be back, Garcia." She assures you. "Emily and I, we'll be back."

You're not sure if she is trying to convince you, or herself. But you know you have to let her go.

"I'll come with you." You insist.

"No." She answers gently.

"Call me. If there's anything you need." You tell her, fighting back tears.

"I will. It's going to be alright." She assures you, squeezing your hand.

"Yeah, it is." Speaks up Morgan. You had forgotten he was even there. You both turn to look at him. turn just in time to see he has upended JJ's bag, spilling the contents all over the floor. In his hand, he holds her passport. In his other hand, a cigarette lighter.

JJ screams in protest, and lunges towards him. But it's too late. Her passport has already gone up in flames.


	20. Chapter 20 Emily

_**Author's note and dedication:**_

I realise it has been years since I began this story, and I apologise to all the readers out there for leaving it hanging so long. This story has always been close to my heart, my favourite out of my Emily/JJ stories, even though it has been the least popular. I realise it is messy and confusing, and if I were to start this story today it would turn out quite differently to the way I started it years ago. But it is what it is, and I can not stand to leave it hanging any longer.

I would like to thank all the people who have read, and left feedback and sent me PM's asking about this story- even today! To all the readers who never gave up and have been patient waiting for me to continue. Your support means the world to me, more so for this story than any other. I am so thrilled that people enjoy the story. It is each and every one of you who has given me courage to finish this story off, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart and hope you will continue to enjoy the story until the end. Please take a moment to let me know what you like, what you don't, what you want to see next.

This update is-

For _**Erin**_, who contributed heavily to this chapter, and helped me find Emily's voice again. I could not have done it without you. Your inspiration and encouragement are invaluable to me. You showed me that I have not lost my voice. I really have no words to thank you for your help. The draft of this chapter spent months on my computer before you brought it to life. You are an amazing person. And a treasured friend.

For _**Kassandra**_, who was by my side when I started this story years ago, who introduced me to Emily and Criminal Minds in the first place, and who taught me so much about myself, about writing, about courage. A little piece of everything I write is always dedicated to you, my love. You taught me not to be afraid to write from my heart. You opened up a whole new world for me, you changed my life. And I hope you know that. A little piece of me also belongs to your forever. I hope you are reading this.

For _**Anna**_, who made me such beautiful banners and art for this story. I can never thank you enough for the beautiful inspiring art work you made just for me. It helped bring the story alive. You tirelessly read through draft after draft, and you never gave up on me. You taught me the meaning of true friendship and loyalty, and I owe you a great debt. I hope this is worth the wait.

For _**Emily**_, so bright and optimistic, who encourages me constantly with everything I write and makes me feel beautiful.

For _**Lindy**_ who has inspired me countless times not to give up on my stories, who read through my drafts, who was there for me when I had no words to share. In good times and bad times. You are a great person and I admire you immensely.

For _**Ariane**_, my JJ, who taught me the meaning of unrequited love. This story was about you, way back when I started it. Many of my stories are about you. Not always in a bad way. You broke my heart, and I still love you. But I remember the good times too. And you taught me that life goes on, even when you don't really want it to.

For _**Alison**_, who taught me what family is, taught me what it is to have a sister. And just how easy it is to shatter trust. Who taught me what it feels like to have a child ripped from your arms. A child who grows up to not even recognise you. For what it's worth, I love you and not a day goes by I don't wish I could turn back the clock.

_**Empty Allegiance**_

_**Chapter 21**_

_**Emily**_

Somehow you manage to push your shame aside, and drown out his snide remarks. You let your anger take over. Anger at him. All these years and he has known your baby girl was alive. All these years he has been with her, watching her grow. And he sits before you now, trying to tell you that you can't even see her. And all the while he has had that precious life, he watched her first steps, her first word. He looked after her when she was sick, watched her blow out candles on her birthday cakes. You don't exist to her. Yet blaming him feels inadequate.

_You_ are her mother. How could you have let this happen? You are so angry with him, with your mother. But deep down you are angry with yourself. You so readily accepted she had died when your mother told you so. How could you let her go so easily? Deep down maybe you never truly wanted her. Maybe she knew it too, maybe she felt it. All your insecurities, your fear. What kind of damage had you done to that precious life?

But still, she is your baby, you are her mother. And you are not going to walk away from her a second time.

"You will not stop me from seeing...her." You can't quite bring yourself to say '_My daughter'_. The words get stuck in your throat.

"I know you, Emily." He replies. And this sends a chill down your spine. "I know I can't stop you from seeing her. But, I want to make something very clear. If you try to take her away, if you hurt her or upset in any way, I will kill you." He warns.

It's not an empty threat, you know all too well what he is capable of. It's part of what makes you sick to your stomach to think of your little girl in his care all these years. But it is a meaningless threat. _Go ahead, kill me,_ you think to yourself. _We both know I'm dead already on the inside. _

It strikes you all over again what a bad mother you are. The fact is, your life had gone on. For years. There was always a piece of you missing. But you had gone on. Pushed your daughter aside. Tried to pretend she never existed. Only now that you find out she is alive, now you are filling your head with thoughts of how you can't live without her. Truth is, you did live without her. All these years. You never did a thing for your child. You were merely a surrogate. You carried her. Gave her life. Then, you let her go.

You inhale sharply and snap yourself out of it. You are being selfish. This isn't about you. This isn't about emotions you don't deserve to feel. This is about the fact you have let this precious child be raised by a monster. A wave of nausea washes over you as you start to imagine what damage he has done to her.

He glances casually at his watch. "She will be home from school soon. Come."

It takes a minute for the shock to leave, he is just going to let you see her, just like that, right now? You're not ready. There is no way he is going to make it this easy for you. Your mother is gone, your sister has turned her back on you, you have no job, you have nothing, you are nothing. Why is he being so generous? He could kill you right here and now and no one would ever know. He could tell you to leave, call the police, he could do so many things. But he's not going to do any of those things. He is going to let you see her, he is going to take you to her right now. You fight back to tears forming in your eyes and take a deep ragged breathe trying to hid the nerves consuming you.

"Do you want to see her or not?" He demands impatiently.

You stand to your feet, trying so hard to remain composed. You look down at yourself, this isn't how you wanted to meet her.

.  
"I should change, I'm not ready.." You stumble over the words.

"Relax. She is 7. She doesn't care about what you are wearing. Besides, this is the one and only time you are going to see her, it doesn't matter about first impressions."

There is no point answering back to him. He sees you as a cold hearted bitch who abandoned your newborn baby. Either that, or he is playing dumb. Either way you can't let him see your weakness.

"Fine then, let's go." You order him.

He shrugs off your anger, but you see the smirk form across his lips. He has won, she is his and you are just a woman who is making a quick pit stop in and out of your daughter's life.

There is a crushing weight of inadequacy hanging over you as you follow in his footsteps. You are actually trembling. You- Emily Prentiss- who has faced the starkest horror and never flinched. You are terrified to the core.

"She thinks that my wife is her mother, Just so you know." He tosses over his shoulder casually. "Don't go getting any ideas about setting her straight. It would shatter her."

You know he is right. You know it would be so selfish of you to tell her the truth, she would never forgive you. She would never understand why it wasn't you raising her. She would forever feel abandoned, rejected, unwanted. Still, it stings you to think that your baby girl is calling someone else "mommy".

"You lied to her? You told her someone else was her mother?" You demand, and once again you let the comforting anger take hold. So much better to be angry at him, than to face the truth of your own culpability.

"What was I supposed to do? All alone, with a child to raise? A child you abandoned. She is happy, secure. Isn't that what you want for her?" He asks in mocking tones.

And just like that, he has crushed you.

Oddly, your thoughts drift to JJ. Your sunshine in the darkest places of your soul. You wish you had told her, you wish you let her in that night in the motel room. She tried so hard to make you let her in. She loved you. And she would have dropped everything and come with you. You wouldn't be doing this alone. But you didn't, you didn't deserve her friendship and you don't deserve your daughter.

"What's her name?" You mumble as you follow him outside. The heat is suffocating, and you think of your poor baby running around in this desolate town, thinking someone else is her mother. Such a huge world out there and she has seen none of it. Just this tiny town in the middle of nowhere, and that hideous man as her father. How can this be the best thing for her? She has no opportunities here. Why had he chosen this place to raise her? You are her mother, you have a responsibility to take her away from all this. Surely this isn't best for her. She can't possibly be happy here.

"Some mother you are. You don't even know your kids name. Her name is Lousie. After my grandmother. We call her Lou." He informs you.

You turn the name over in your mind. Louise. Your daughter is called Louise. Its not what you would have picked for her, had you the chance, but its her name, and you try to put a face to it. To imagine what she looks like. To forge a connection to the child, to the name. But it all feels so foreign. You can't picture her face, you can't picture that name. His grandmothers name. It's wrong. She should have a name picked by her mother, something significant to her mother, not Louise, not Lou. It couldn't possibly fit the child.

He walks down the main street of the town, and you follow slightly behind him, watching him, as if you expect him to try something. You'd known him a long time, knew what he was capable of.

He waves to the locals in the street. He blends in so completely. But he is skilled at deception, you know this all too well.

"I can hear what you're thinking." He shatters your train of thought. "I'm a changed man. Fatherhood changed me. Believe it or not, this is my life now. In this town. I'm an honest man. Not rich, not powerful. I'm a good father to my kids. Something happened to me when I became a father. Obviously parenthood didn't affect _you_ the same way. But you were always so unaffected, so cold." This is what he tells you.

You don't believe he has changed. Perhaps because you don't want to. You wanted somehow to find your daughter in distress, horrible as it sounds, you wanted to rescue her. To find that she had missed you, that she needed you. You weren't expecting to find any obstacles between you and her. Hadn't you already missed enough of her life, her childhood stolen from you? This wasn't fair.

As you round the corner something green catches your eye, grass. The school yard contains the only grass in the drought stricken township. It looks odd, too bright, too lively, out of place. Children are running , kicking balls, playing. You scan the crowd. Which one is she? Why can't you tell? She is your daughter, your flesh and blood. You ought to be able to tell.

It isn't long before Louise spies her father though. She is walking towards him, a younger boy in tow, clutching her hand. She sees her father, drops the boys hand, drops her book bag, and runs toward him, yelling excitedly "Daddy, Daddy, I didn't know you were picking us up!" She exclaims.

You feel yourself doing a double take. You stand there categorizing her features, his golden hair, your chocolate orbs, his nose, your lips. She is not what you expected but you can't help but be taken back by her beauty. You think you have never seen someone so perfect. A single tear slips down your cheek as you hurry to wipe it away.

Louise is so beautiful, more amazing than you imagined. And when you look at her, it pulls at your heart in a way nothing has. Ever. She has straight blond hair, like her father, something you hadn't expected. You had pictured her dark haired, like you. The first thought that crosses your mind is how she reminds you of what JJ must have looked like as child. Happy, care free. She has dark eyes though, inquisitive and warm. She is perfect in every way. And you just want to stare at her, taking in every detail about her, so you can recall it later.

"I wanted to surprise you Lou Lou." He tells her, smiling, as he embraces her.

Your arms are burning with desire, you want to reach out, to hold her in your arms, where she belongs.

Louise kisses her fathers cheek. The little boy has caught up, and embraces his father also. You stand there in your best FBI stance, confident, compassionate, alive. You hold back all the pain washing over you, the guilt of missing this, the jealously of her love for the monster who kept her away. You glance at the little boy she is holding so close. A brother. Louise has a brother. Louise is smiling from ear to ear, as if she had everything in the world. Everything you could never give her.

You try to reconcile this girl, this beautiful lively seven year old girl, with the tiny baby you carried around inside you for nine months. It's too big for you to comprehend. You look at her. You try to imagine what she looked like as a newborn, as a toddler. What she will look like when she is grown. Thoughts you had never allowed yourself.

You had somehow expected time to stand still, but it doesn't. Your thoughts are racing a hundred miles an hour, and you are frantically trying to take in every perfect detail about your daughter, about Louise.

She turns to you, as he is busy with the little boy, and extends her hand to you "I'm Lou, who are you?" She is so confident, friendly, charming, absolutely the most beautiful child, though you may be biased. And not one bit of it can you take credit for. She smiles so purely, she is happy, she has always been happy. She has wanted for nothing. She has had a better life than you could have given her, you know all this from her radiant smile. You take it, her tiny hand, and shake it, managing to mumble, "I'm Emily, a friend of your fathers."

Louise nods, "This is my brother Lucas." The girl puts her arm around the little boy tenderly. "He is five. I'm seven."

You can't think of anything to say. It's odd, you always had a way with children. The team would often leave you to question them. Children trusted you. But standing before this perfect little girl, you seem to have lost your gift.

"Hi Lucas." You manage, the boy smiles back and tucks behind Lou.

"Lucas doesn't talk much. " Louise continues. She is more than happy to fill any of the gaps in conversation. "Mummy says its because I do enough talking for the both of us." She giggles at this and Lucas smiles a bright smile.

It tears at your heart to hear her calling someone "mummy" in an odd Australian accent. And to see her fit so perfectly into this family picture. A picture that did not include you.

"Dad." Louise asks "Can Emily come for dinner?"

He looks to you for a moment. "Yes. Emily is staying for dinner. And then she has to leave. She lives a long long long way away from here."

"Where do you live?" Louise wants to know.

You answer without thinking "I live in America." But you realise that's not really true any more. You don't really live anywhere.

"That's why you talk funny." Louise declares.

"Yes, I suppose that's why." You acknowledge.

You're not surprised he is letting you come for dinner. He wants you to see their family, see how much of an outsider you are in your daughters life. It's working, too. You look at her, so bright, confident, beautiful. She adores her father, her brother, and probably her step mother too.

Part of you wants to run away. It simply hurts too much. But you've never been one to turn from pain. And you are so drawn to her. You just want one more moment to watch her laughing, playing with her brother, running along the pavement with sunlight glistening in her hair. It is magical, surreal, and you're not ready for it to end. It's why you nod slightly at him, and follow behind the three of them as they walk hand in hand, watching your little girl skipping happily, and you're unable to tear your gaze away.


End file.
